


The Booty Call

by aferretlee, casedeerly



Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: Casual Sex, During Canon, Embarrassment, Emotional Turmoil, M/M, Pining, Porn With Plot, Slow Burn, Touch-Starved, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-20 03:42:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 63,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8234879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aferretlee/pseuds/aferretlee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/casedeerly/pseuds/casedeerly
Summary: Work, stress, and sleep deprivation is all Commander Peepers knows. Fed up, he makes a snap decision to release some tension. He and his booty call have a arrangement, but what Peepers doesn't know is that things can often heat up in ways you don't expect. A story that started as a joke between two novice writers but ended up being a very real, very serious (but still very funny), slow burn romance between a main character and an OC.





	1. The Snap Decision

**Author's Note:**

> The idea behind this fic was suggested between my partner and I months ago and since then it has grown into something monstrously huge. I have no plans of getting _everything_ down in writing but I'll probably be adding some stuff to this here and there. It might go out of order, there will definitely be some time skips, but it'll all be great, I'm sure of it. I hope you all come to love this as much as we have.
> 
> (Just as a little warning, the way I write them involves the watchdogs having invisible facial features. They also have a different, alien way of determining attractiveness in their species. I like to imagine it's based on iris patterns and proportions. Also, Peepers has too much dignity to say or think a lot of things, including the word “dick” so please try not blame me to much for his embarrassing word choices.)
> 
> \--Hannah
> 
>  
> 
> i hope yall like the fic! this is my first time publishing anything with anyone, but of course, credit where credit is due, hannah wrote most of it and asked for my ~expertise~ when needed......
> 
> i'm excited to write more of this, whenever or however much that may be! we have a ton of material, a lot of which i really _really_ want to write about, but like i said it's a lot, and we're busy people! we have art that we've done as well, but i'm not sure when or if we'll post em, but we'll update the fic with links if we do!
> 
> if you want to check out our tumblrs, hannah's is [here](http://aferretlee.tumblr.com) and mine is [here](http://sincerelydeerly.tumblr.com)!
> 
> \--Case

Peepers hadn't felt the touch of another person since college. Though to be fair, that was the one and _only_ time he had felt the touch of another person. He tried not to dwell on it too much, but it was true, Peepers hadn’t been much of a social person in school. Or ever.

That didn't matter to him, though. What mattered were his grades and performance. In the end, he did end up dropping out to pursue a career in evil, _but_ that doesn't mean the principle of the thing wasn't important at the time! However, ever since he started his career as a villain, he'd had even less time to socialize. Meaning that his loyalty to the Hater Empire had to come at the cost of his dating life.

But again, that didn't matter to him! His eye was always on the prize.

Except now, at times like these, when his mind started to wander.

He was in his room, sitting at his desk, not working on the very important—and unfinished—blueprints in front of him. He had become distracted by the way the pencil felt in his hand. He turned it between two fingers on his right hand, noticing the way the ridges felt through his glove. He hadn't worked in pencil in a while, but these blueprints were rough and he didn't want to have to redo them if he made mistakes. He did almost everything in pen, usually. Even when he did math it was in pen.

He had always been very good at math. He was doing algebra in early elementary school, much to his classmates disdain. Even the teachers tried to stifle his growth when he was young, seeing the pure, distilled talent that he had. Peepers laughed to himself. They must have been intimidated. At least his college professors appreciated him a bit more.

Peepers closed his eye and leaned back in his chair. There he goes, thinking about college again. Ugh.

It's not that Peepers hadn't had a good time with Patrick. It just wasn't the best thing for his mind to keep wandering to right now. During these late nights, when he remembered him, things either went one of two ways. He remembers how things ended, gets angry, can't focus on anything, and fumes for the rest of the night until he falls asleep... or he remembers the good times.

Like, that time in Patrick's room.

Or that time in Peepers' car.

Or—

Peepers sighed and pushed himself away from his desk, the wheels squeaking as they rolled. No more work was getting done tonight, was there?

He hopped down from the chair and moved to his bed, jumping up on top of the covers and leaning back up against the headboard. He reached to his bedside table and pulled out a bottle of lube from the drawer. He cradled the bottle in his hands and stared at it.

He didn't _like_ doing this. It felt so...sad. Sitting alone in his room, unable to get anything done because he was busy pining after his old boyfriend. Or pining after… um. Other people. It had been getting progressively worse over the past couple years, and it was starting to really effect his work.

Ugh. He just needed to release tension, that's all! Then it'd be fine. That's what he always told himself, and he was okay with that. He was just so sick of... _this_. The being-alone part. It wasn't like he wanted to _date_ anyone, he just wanted to...feel someone. But he couldn't exactly go out and hook up with someone, people would notice his absence. And he couldn't exactly bring anyone on the ship either, dear grop, the watchdogs would devour gossip like that.

The... watchdogs...

Peepers looked up to his door and grimaced. He was getting desperate, but not that desperate. The watchdogs were his underlings, not to mention a bunch of idiots. _Not to mention_ the scandal if word got out that he slept with one of them, which it would, because any watchdog that he chose to sleep with would tell everyone the first chance he got.

He set the bottle down on top of the nightstand and crossed his arms in thought.

He WAS their boss…

No, he was their _evil and tyrannical commander_. He wouldn't hesitate to throw one of them out the airlock for speaking a word against him. If he slept with one of them, he could just make him swear on pain of death not to talk.

When he tried imagining it he felt a familiar tingle down south that told him at least part of him liked this idea.

He shook his head. He needed to think about this objectively. Yes, he was touch-starved, and little desperate, but these were watchdogs we were talking about. Soldiers of a grand army, which he was the esteemed commander of. With a rank like that comes a certain amount of propriety! It's lewd and obscene to imagine... _fraternizing_ with his subordinates. That is _not_ something the commander of a powerful and magnificent army would do. No, he was better than that.

He glared at his door, trying to think of another solution. He was a problem solver, he could figure out something.

As he tried to think of other potential suitors his brain oh-so-helpfully supplied Patrick as a form of reference. He couldn't exactly blame it, considering that's literally the only thing he had to go by. He just wanted to experience what he did with him again, but without the hassle...

Peepers sighed, and for once, allowed his mind a bit of free reign as he thought back on his time with Patrick. He remembered the warmth and pressure of Patrick's hands pressing on his chest, gliding down. The sound of Patrick's breathy moans as Peepers kissed his neck. The feeling of being held around the small of his back, Patrick pressing into his hips and being able to feel his arousal, physical and _real_.

He quickly stood up and balled his fists. Who cared about propriety. This problem wasn’t going away unless he actually did something about it.

Acting on impulse, he jumped down from his bed and stormed out his room, making his way through the hallway out to one of the larger corridors on the ship.

He glanced at a few of the watchdogs slouching at their posts as he passed, who then quickly straightened up their posture as he continued by them, keeping a brisk pace. He didn't know exactly what he was doing, but if he wanted to do this he needed to pick someone and find a place to go without anyone being too suspicious. It typically went against his better judgement to act without a plan like this, but these days he found himself doing it more often than usual. Probably Lord Hater's influence.

Peepers grimaced at that and slowed his pace, turning a corner into the larger corridor. If he was doing something Lord Hater might do, maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

Just then, a small company of watchdogs marched passed, stepping lazily in time as they continued their patrol through the ship. It was just a group of night-shifters.

...Who would hardly notice someone missing from their ranks.

Peepers had almost slowed to a stop as he watched them pass, but now he sped back up, forgetting his reservations, his eye darting from one watchdog to another.

Did it matter who he picked? He supposed he wanted someone attractive, though he couldn't exactly tell what they looked like very easily from this angle; He couldn't even see their faces from here. And anyway he didn't have much time. He was about 20 paces from them now and he focused in on the ranks closest to him. He just had to pick one, it didn't matter who. Whichever he picked, he'd use him and be done with it.

As he closed in, his eye locked onto the one in the second rank from the back, closest file to him. He could feel his heart thumping furiously in his chest as he focused hard on the watchdog's arm and took the final few quick paces to him.

"YOU!" Peepers grabbed the watchdog's arm and yanked hard, pulling him out of file. "Come with me!"

Peepers only caught a glance of his face before he turned on his heel and started marching towards a smaller hallway branching off to the right, dragging him behind. He could feel the watchdog trip and fumble behind him before righting himself and quickening his pace to keep up with him.

He could hear murmurs of some of the watchdogs they left behind and could parse out at least one of them say "Whoa, what'd he do?".

So far, so good. They just think he's in trouble! Peepers would have smirked if his stomach wasn't churning.

As they turned into a new hallway he felt a wave of relief when he saw that it was deserted. He was worried he'd have to drag him around for ages before they managed to get away from prying eyes. Obviously they can't do anything in the middle of an open hallway though, so his eye darted around as he continued to drag the watchdog behind him. There were a few open archways leading to large, empty training rooms — offering no privacy — but not much else. He could feel panic start to bubble up when he realized he didn't _know_ what he was looking for.

Oh grop, _what was he doing_.

Just as Peepers started to come up with a back up plan to get rid of this guy, his eye found purchase.

A janitorial closet.

Peepers walked briskly towards it and without a second thought, opened the door, used the momentum to throw the watchdog inside, went in, shut the door, and flicked on the light.

"Wh... what's going on? Am I in trouble?" The watchdog looked around the room, still righting himself after being thrown.

Peepers took a deep breath. Okay. This was real, this was happening.

Peepers took in the watchdog before him.

He was handsome enough. Relatively nice face, taller than him (of course), and on the chubbier side, as many of the watchdogs are. There was a look of slight confusion on his face as he took in his surroundings. Peepers tried to keep a stern look on own his face as he prepared himself for whatever he was about to do.

"Why are we in a broom closet?" The watchdog asked, finally meeting Peepers glare.

Without stopping to think about it, Peepers grabbed the watchdog by the shoulders and whipped him around, shoving him back up against the wall next to the door. Now that they were closer, the height difference between them was even more apparent. He had at least 3 inches on Peepers. If he wasn't still running on adrenaline he'd probably be annoyed by that.

"Shut up," Peepers spat at him. He kept one hand pinning the watchdog down and with the other he pulled out his blaster and held it under the watchdog’s face. The blaster made its clean, familiar powering up sound, and the watchdog nervously looked from it, back to Peepers.

The watchdog did as he was told and didn't respond. This was the moment of truth. The point of no return.

Peepers was in control here, he could _do_ this.

He leaned closer and hardened his glare at the watchdog he had pinned in front of him, doing his best job at sounding as intimidating as possible as he spoke.

"If you so much as breathe a _word_ of this to anyone, you will experience the full wrath of the Hater Empire. Your friends and family and everyone you know and hold dear will know nothing but pain and suffering for the rest of their lives." Peepers pushed the tip of the blaster into the watchdog’s neck for emphasis. He found himself speeding up as he spoke, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. "None of you will be given reprieve or mercy. Do you understand me? You will never see the light of day or taste food ever again," he could feel himself getting a bit frantic, "you will spend the rest of your existence being tube fed, hanging in shackles, being kept alive, alone, forever. Do I make myself clear??" Peepers was inches from the others face now, and he tried to keep his breathing even and his glare hard as he waited for his response.

The watchdog hesitated, looking from Peepers, away, and back to Peepers again.

"What exactly am I... not supposed to breathe a word of, again?" he finally said. "What's going on?"

Oh grop.

What was he supposed to say? 'I want you to have sex with me'??

...He had to just do it. He had to make his intentions clear.

Peepers put the blaster away, stealing himself one last moment before he potentially ruined everything.

He then leaned forward and kissed the watchdog, hard on the lips.

For a brief moment the watchdog didn’t move, and judging on just how still he was, Peepers guessed he had completely stopped breathing as well. It had been a while since Peepers had kissed anybody but he knew there was usually a lot more movement involved and he could feel panic start to overwhelm him. What if he had just made the biggest mistake of his life? What if this watchdog didn’t even _want_ this, he hadn’t even _considered_ —

Just as he was about to pull away, the watchdog, to Peepers’ amazement, started to gently kiss him back. The feeling of the watchdog's lips moving on his was enough to send a jolt of arousal through Peepers, giving him the resolve he needed. He immediately commandeered the rhythm, but the watchdog politely matched stride with him until he finally did pull back, panting and looking hard at the watchdog in front of him in expectation. Hopefully that was enough of an answer.

“Um.” The watchdog stared back, wide-eyed, at Peepers. He was afraid the watchdog might still not understand until he shook his head and said “Oh—okay. Wow.” He blinked a couple times. “Yeah,” he said, almost sounding pleased. “Yeah, okay.” He sounded much more relaxed, now, which didn't make much sense considering his situation, but he seemed to understand and also be agreeing to it, so Peepers continued on.

He went back in for another kiss, pressing the watchdog firmly against the wall, moving his hand—shakily grop darnit, but there was nothing much he could do about that—to the bottom hem of the watchdog's shirt, pushing it up slightly and getting his hand under to press up against the watchdog's abdomen. It wasn't quite right, his glove was still on, but it still felt amazing. He slid his hand up, pressing a bit firm to mask his shakiness, and spread his fingers wide on his pectoral, feeling the warmth through his glove. There was a slight give to his flesh because of the fat there, and Peepers could almost make out the texture of chest hair through his glove. He held back a groan. This was already better than he had been imagining.

Peepers started using a bit of tongue, and only just realized that because he hadn't kissed anyone in years and he was probably incredibly rusty. The watchdog reciprocated however, perfectly enthusiastic. The feeling of their tongues sliding against each other had Peepers lightheaded and gasping for air and he was sure he could feel a smile on the others' lips. He felt a hand wrap under his other arm and around his shoulder, and even though the touch was gentle, it was enough to startle and make Peepers' mind start to race.

He was kissing a watchdog right now, and the watchdog was kissing him back. It felt so unreal, but this wasn’t just some fantasy, he was doing it, right here and now in this janitorial closet. He was touching him, feeling his chest, gripping onto his shoulder, kissing him, feeling the watchdog’s hand wrapped around him. He had set out to do this, and he was doing it, he was _really_ _doing_ _it_ , and it didn’t make any sense, and it was all so stupid and reckless and amazing, and they were barely even _doing_ anything yet. It didn't take long before Peepers started to run out of breath and had to pull away.

“This is nice,” the watchdog said, slightly winded as well.

What was with this guy?? He was so...  _casual_. This was a big deal! Why was he acting like it wasn't?

Nevermind. It didn't matter right now.

As his breathing evened out, Peepers looked at the watchdog in front of him. He was so ready to get started, he wanted nothing more than to either disrobe him and just _ravish him_ , or have him do the same to Peepers.

...He had no idea how to go about either.

He had really only been with Patrick a small handful of times... and, really, Patrick had led the way on most occasions.

“So, what do you wanna do?” the watchdog asked.

Peepers stiffened. He had to do _something_.

Impulse has brought him this far. Maybe he could use it to carry him the rest of the way through.

Holding onto that thought as an anchor, Peepers reached out and pulled himself to the watchdog’s neck, putting his mouth to it and sucking on the skin there as he wrapped his other arm around his back and pressed his hips into the watchdog’s, reveling in the well-placed pressure, unable to stop himself from grinding against him for a moment. It was so much all at once and his heart was practically beating out of his chest.

This elicited a quiet, surprised “Ah…” out of the watchdog, which Peepers took as the final push he didn’t know he needed to reach down between them and, after a quick, steadying breath, press his hand between the watchdog's legs. He heard the watchdog take in a shuddering breath as he moved his hand, fondling the slight bulge he found there. Peepers cupped it and pressed, feeling the proof in his hand that the watchdog was aroused as well. The watchdog gripped at the back of Peepers shirt slightly as Peepers fondled him, and Peepers could feel his own breathing shake, coming out in shallow breaths on the watchdog's neck.

“So, do you do this often?” the watchdog asked, amused through his shaky breathing. “Take a random person out of a crowd and bang them in a closet? I never saw you as th—hh, the type.” The watchdog hummed slightly and leaned against Peepers' head.

Peepers pulled away from the watchdog’s neck to narrow his eye at him, keeping his other hand where it was.

“No. And shut up,” Peepers said, pushing down the hem of the watchdog’s pants enough to see his underwear, which was blue and had white and yellow stars on it. Peepers ignored how idiotic it looked in favor of pushing his hand under the watchdog's pants and gripping him through his underwear. Peepers could feel the real shape of him now, and feeling how hard the watchdog was sent a wave of arousal through him. The watchdog gasped slightly at the much more direct touch.

“Haha, that's cool, it's my first time too.” How was he still talking??? Peepers tried to ignore him and lifted the watchdog’s shirt with his free hand—noting the light dusting of chest hair that he had felt earlier—and leaned forward to lick at one of his nipples. He felt shivers run up his spine when he felt the chest hair brush against his face, and the taste of the watchdog's skin left him hungry for more, pressing himself further into his chest, relishing in the warmth.

“Well not my first time, first time,” the watchdog laughed, placing a hand on the back of Peeper’s helmet, “but definitely my first time doing something like this! Ahh...” The watchdog then moaned slightly as Peeper performed a well-timed, simultaneous drag down his, er—member, and pop off his nipple.

“Stop talking,” Peepers said, venom in his voice. He was going to make this as enjoyable as he could for himself and, surprisingly enough, that did not involve the incessant babblings of an idiot.

“Haha, you got it, sorry,” the watchdog said with a couple small pats on the back of Peepers helmet.

Peepers trying to focus back in on what he was doing, moving his mouth back onto the watchdog’s chest. He had to keep himself constantly moving so as to not overthink this, not overthink _anything_.

With his hand wrapped around the watchdog's member and slowly running up its length, a pressing urge rose up in him to throw his gloves off and touch him, feel his arousal against his skin... But he was finally in a groove now, he couldn't possibly break contact with the watchdog for long enough to throw his gloves off without dying of shame. He had no choice but to begrudgingly keep them on. When he gently squeezed through the fabric, the watchdog moaned softly, making Peepers grit back a groan of frustration at the lack of reciprocated skin-on-skin.

Taking one last teasing lick, he lifted his head to suck on the watchdog's neck again, pressing the length of his body against him. He was dying to get things moving. Unable to resist the temptation, he backed up just enough to pull the watchdog's member out of his briefs. He managed to steal a quick look down and barely contained a shudder of anticipation.

The watchdog’s breath hitched as Peepers ran a slow hand down, exhaling as he relished the experience. He slid his other hand up his chest again, brushing against his nipples—

When he felt the watchdog's hand slip between the two them, barely managing to graze Peepers' crotch. Peepers slapped his hand away, backing up to glare at him.

"What are you doing?!" His hands were trembling despite it being such a small touch. It had sent a current of tingles across his entire body, but he refused to let it show.

The watchdog quickly retreated his hand, glancing at it before looking at Peepers again. "Sorry, just thought you might want—"

"I _know_ what I want, and I don't _need_ your assistance," Peepers hissed, keeping the tremor out of his voice as he wrapped his hand around the watchdog's member again. The watchdog's eye slid closed, letting out a shaky breath.

"Sorry, sir, I'd never doubt you or, uh, help, I guess, if that's what you want. Though—"

"How many times do I have to tell you to shut up?!" Peepers raised his voice as much as he dared, fearful of any passerby that might hear them.

“Sorry, sorry.” The watchdog had opened his eye a bit and made a zipping motion across where his mouth was and flung away an invisible key. Peepers narrowed his eye at that but continued onward, gripping onto the watchdog's shoulder with his other hand and focusing back on keeping his own breathing steady.

Peepers began properly stroking him now, and he seemed to almost melt back against the wall, closing his eye again and making another small humming sound as he did. Peepers checked on the watchdog’s hands, which were being kept away from Peepers, balled up in fists at his side.

As Peepers’ hand slid up and down on the watchdog’s member, he considered the fact that a gloved-handjob probably wasn't the most comfortable thing in the galaxy. Still though, the watchdog was fully erect at this point and seemed to be enjoying it, tilting his head down and breathing hard as Peepers stroked him, so it couldn't be that bad.

Peepers felt almost as if he was in a trance, stroking the watchdog rhythmically as he watched his bowed head—and nearly flinched when the watchdog opened his eye and looked at him, eye half-lidded and panting. The watchdog chuckled softly before closing his eye and moaning again, leaning his head back against the wall.

That had Peepers a bit self conscious and confused, but blood rushed to his face (and other places) at the sight of the watchdog clearly wanting and lustful. Every movement of his chest, every slight twitch or shudder, every muted moan in response to his touch—it all ran wild through Peepers' body, heightening his arousal and desperation. The sight of another person in such a state all because of his own doing was incredibly... _hot_. So much so that he was actually starting to feel uncomfortable in his own rather tight pants.

The watchdog moaned, almost sounding frustrated, and Peepers picked up the pace in response. He found himself looking everywhere but down, feeling oddly embarrassed. Yet every time he managed to steal a glance, he felt a hot surge of desire. He could tell the watchdog was getting close when his breathing started to get more and more ragged, and found himself breathing hard as well, feeling tension build up in his own gut as he edged him closer and closer.

Peepers noticed the watchdog balling and un-balling his fists at his sides, then pressing them against the wall, then giving up and finally putting one on Peepers' shoulder to ground himself. The sudden contact made Peepers shiver, and the firm grip made him feel so... _dirty_. The watchdog’s breathing started coming out as moans and he squeezed Peepers' shoulder giving him just enough of a warning to look down in time. The watchdog groaned as he came, and Peepers watched as cum came out in spurts into his hand, finding himself mesmerized by the sight, his body shivering hard as a wave of arousal shot through him, making him feel as if his whole body was throbbing.

Once it stopped, he slowed down as the watchdog loosened his grip on Peepers shoulder, both of them still panting. Peepers lifted his hand to examine it.

It'd wash out of course, but Peepers was still slightly disgusted. He slipped the glove off, turning it inside out and sticking it in his pocket to take care of later.

Then he realized this act was over. There was nothing for his hands to do to this watchdog that could keep his mind in motion, and Peepers suddenly couldn’t bring himself to look him in the eye. He glanced between the floor and the watchdog’s midriff as he fixed his clothes.

“So, do I—”

Peepers mind raced. He desperately wanted his own erection handled, but grop he didn’t want to actually say anything. He just needed something to happen, he wanted…

Adrenaline flooded his system as he squared his shoulders and made eye contact with the watchdog, grabbing his shoulders and shoving him down to his knees in one rough motion.

“WOAH—oh.” The watchdog was exactly eye level with Peepers crotch and he looked at it in a kind of amazement, making Peepers feel a hot rush of embarrassment. He had to look away.

“Ha, cool,” the watchdog said, a slight breathless awe in his voice. He looked up at Peepers, and Peepers foolishly stole a glance, the vantage point alone making him feel riled. “It’s okay that I do stuff, then?”

Peepers balled his fists before crossing his arms tightly, tapping his foot with impatience as he desperately tried to hide his utter embarrassment through annoyance. “Do I have to spell it out for you?” he hissed, again unable to look the watchdog in the eye.

The watchdog chuckled, sending a wave of heat through Peepers’ face. “No, I got it, sir,” he said, pulling down Peepers’ uniform.

He shivered when he felt the air on his...oh, grop, oh grop, he couldn't believe this was happening. His mind raced so quickly that he couldn’t hold onto any forming thoughts, making himself feel dizzy. He looked back down just as the watchdog was leaning into him, and nearly jumped when he felt a hand touching him at his base. The watchdog must have taken his glove off when Peepers wasn’t looking, but he couldn’t even focus on such a simple thought as that. He felt like he was on fire, watching wide-eyed as the watchdog’s head moved closer to him until he felt his mouth touch the head of his—oh grop. He jerked his head up, unable to bear looking at the watchdog anymore as his mind spiraled, his vision going blurry for a second before he reached out to steady himself with a hand on the wall over the watchdog's head.

Everything felt as if it was in slow motion. Peepers couldn't breathe as he felt the watchdog's tongue press against his member, warm and _wet_ , dear grop. He inhaled slowly as the watchdog's mouth started to take him in and he couldn't stop himself, he couldn't _help_ himself as he shuddered and let out a choked gasp. He felt the watchdog pause for a second before continuing, swirling his tongue in such a heavenly way that Peepers _again_ found himself gasping, his mind having screeched to a halt and only being able to process one thing: this mouth on his dick.

"HA—" Peepers smacked his hand over his face, looking up at the ceiling to try to hide his embarrassment over his mind's choice of words, but he couldn't even stop himself from _shaking_. He breathed hard, trying to keep himself steady, but the slow rhythm the watchdog had started up was driving Peepers up the wall.

The tension in his body continued to rise higher and higher at an alarming rate, making him feel increasingly dizzy. He put his other hand on the watchdog's helmet to keep himself up, and as he adjusted his hand against the wall, he tried pressing his hips ever so slightly forward...

He heard the stifled surprise of the watchdog and immediately flushed. Peepers nearly started to apologize when he managed to remember himself. He was this person's boss! He wasn't going to apologize! He was his _commander_!

That thought sent shivers down his spine and, biting his tongue, Peepers gently pushed forward again. This time the watchdog moaned softly, adding an unbelievable element to the sensation. Peepers moaned, but he didn't care anymore—he wanted this so badly, he couldn't think straight.

He gently thrust again, and again, making the tension continue to pool in his gut as adrenaline raced through him. Hearing the watchdog's encouraging sounds, he moaned again, unable to hold himself back, oh grop, oh _grop_ he was so close, too close—

WAIT—

Peepers realized, far too late, that he was about to finish in this watchdog's mouth.

"I-I'm g—!! Hhaah...gh..." His entire body shuddered, desperately trying to keep himself upright as he came, gasping for air.

The watchdog pulled back, coughing, and Peepers was ready to die, right there. Oh grop. Not only did he cum into his mouth, but he came in _minutes_. How exceedingly pathetic.

The watchdog wiped his mouth and swallowed, clearing his throat as Peepers attempted to regain composure. He ignored the realization that the watchdog had just swallowed his... _stuff_ , and instead took advantage of the fact that the watchdog had risen and was busy fixing his pants to do the same, still feeling particularly embarrassed and dazed as he shoved himself back into his underwear and pulled his pants back up.

"Can I talk now?"

Peepers whipped his head up to see the watchdog looking at him, cautious, without a trace of annoyance or disgust. Was the watchdog okay with how this turned out? Wasn't he thinking about how embarrassingly quickly his commander just came? Wasn't he going to criticize him for not giving fair warning before he came in his _mouth_?? Dozens of thoughts screamed in his mind at once, but he had to _say_ something.

" _What_?" he snapped, crossing his arms again, feeling extremely vulnerable.

"I was just gonna ask if you were okay," the watchdog said with an awkward chuckle. "If um, that was okay."

Peepers was quiet for a moment. He _was_ fine. None of this... _had_ to be a big deal. He probably only thought he came fast because he was so into it. In all reality they probably took about the same amount of time! And besides, he shouldn't have to worry about what this watchdog might think of him. After all, it was a one time thing, who cared!

Or. Well. He hadn't actually thought about it until just now but...it didn't _have_ to be a one time thing. Despite his embarrassment, Peepers hadn't felt something that amazing in years. He realized didn't want to give that up. He didn't want to go back to all those lonely nights in his room.

Peepers straightened up, and for the last time that night, let impulse take the reins.

"Give me your phone," Peepers said, holding his hand out and his head high.

"Oh—um." The watchdog scrambled, feeling his pockets and fishing out his phone. He handed it to Peepers.

"Wait, why do you...?" The watchdog looked at the phone upside down as Peepers opened up his contacts and created a new one, typing in his cell phone number. He paused on the "name" section and after a moment of thought, entered seven asterisks in a row and saved. He handed the phone back to the watchdog, who took it, looking slightly confused.

Peepers pulled out his own phone and opened up another new blank contact. He looked at the “name” section again and stopped for a moment before handing the phone to the watchdog. He hadn't even thought to ask until now.

"What's your name?"

"Oh. Uh. It's Terry," he said as he took the phone and entered in his own information.

"Hm." Peepers straightened his uniform again, looking away.

The watchdog—er, Terry—handed Peepers back his phone, which he promptly slid back into his pocket.

"I might...call on you to come here again."

Terry's eye widened at that. "Oh. Okay." He nodded slightly, sounding a bit thrown, but pleased. "Yeah. Sure."

Peepers' eye flicked to the door, uncomfortable. It was time to get going, but he had no idea if anyone might be outside in the hallway right now.

"Wait five minutes before you leave the room. I don't want anyone seeing us coming out at the same time. I'll make sure no one’s out there to see you come out." Peepers moved to the door but stopped before he opened it to leave.

"Remember, you are not to say a word of any of this, to anyone. Is that clear?" Peepers tried to put as much of a threat in his voice as possible.

"Yeah, yeah, crystal," Terry responded, sounding a bit dazed.

Knowing that he had no choice but to take him at his word, Peepers took one last look up and down Terry before turning away and going through the door, closing it behind him and leaving the watchdog alone inside.

The hallway was clear, and Peepers took a deep, settling breath before he straightened up and started back to his room.

He listened to the slight echo of his footsteps as he considered what he'd done.

He just had sex with a watchdog. He touched a watchdog. He heard his moans and felt his…his  _member_ in his hands. And that watchdog _sucked_ _him_ _off_. (And it had felt amazing.)

And Peepers exchanged phone numbers with said watchdog so as to do this again.

...Grop, this was going to end terribly wasn't it?

As Peepers turned into a corridor that had some watchdogs in it, standing at their posts, he realized one his hands still didn't have a glove on it, and that would probably seem incredibly strange, so he shoved it in his pocket as he went towards them. He held himself as stoically as possible as he passed the few stationary guards, who once again corrected their posture as he passed. They made no signs of suspicion but anxiety crept over Peepers anyway as he continued past them. He knew there was no way they could possibly know what he had just done, but he still felt a very real paranoia that they suspected him somehow.

As Peepers finally approached his room he tried to calm himself down. The watchdog—ugh, _Terry_ —didn't seem like he was lying when he said he’d keep his mouth shut. And Peepers was very good at judging that sort of thing.

And, you know, if not, then what was the worst that could happen? Even if Terry did tell someone, there's no way anyone would believe him. Some random watchdog managing to sleep with _the_ Commander Peepers, despite the two of them having never even spoken or been seen together? There was no way. Peepers was safe. And more importantly, he was in the clear to continue this if he so wished, so long as he exercised caution.

Peepers exhaled as he entered his room, the door sliding closed behind him. He took the glove out of his pocket and threw it in his hamper for later.

He would go back to work but he already knew it'd be a pointless endeavor. His mind was still swirling with images of Terry, the sounds of his moans playing on repeat in his head. Instead he got ready for bed, going through his normal nighttime routine on autopilot, thoughts of earlier fresh in his mind.

He fell asleep that night thinking how thankful he was that he happened to pick a watchdog who was so great at giving head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's some fanart that hannah and i colab'd on, she drew it and i inked/colored! [here!](http://aferretlee.tumblr.com/post/151821654035/i-know-i-dont-really-post-art-here-often-but)
> 
> \--case


	2. The Second Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! We've been feeling out the first few chapters a lot these past couple weeks, trying to decide what we wanna publish now or add later as bonus chapters. We're really excited to get things moving, so we don't wanna dawdle too much.
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who's left kudos and comments, it means the world to us that people like our story, even if it's just passing interest. It brightens up our day so much. Please feel free to send us asks on tumblr as well ([here](aferretlee.tumblr.com) or [here](sincerelydeerly.tumblr.com)) if you wanna know more about our boy Terry or anything else you might be wondering about. We won't spoil anything big but if you wanna know any trivia or character stuff please ask away!!! We literally always wanna talk about it.
> 
> \--Hannah
> 
>  
> 
> hi everyone!!! oh my gosh i'm really excited for this one. we've been figuring the best way we can write things and move the story along, because yall have No idea . i can't WAIT to get to the Goods, it's gonna be great..... in the meanwhile, i hope yall enjoy chapter two, because i _REALLY_ enjoyed writing it  >:) !!!
> 
> i've been participating in nanowrimo as a means to help kick my butt into gear about writing this fic! which (hopefully??) means there will be more fic sooner rather than later! i also wrote a little mini-fic that is set in this storyline but doesn't necessarily fit into the fic ITSELF, so i'll probably post it separately once it's all done! as soon as asap as possible!! 
> 
> \--case!!

It had been three days since...the incident. Peepers often found himself distracted, remembering the sounds, the  _feelings..._ he could hardly believe it hadn't all been a dream. He was still shocked with himself for actually going through with it. Sometimes he would pull out his phone just to look at the new contact and remember that he really _did_  do something that daring, that _risque._ Honestly, he was rather proud of his past self, impressed that he was able to pull a stunt like that off.

Now it was just up to his present self to figure out what to do next.

And of course, now that he had time to think about everything, it was only a matter of time before he started _over_  thinking things. He still wasn't even sure if he’d actually call Terry to meet up again or just let it be a one-time thing.

Terry. Oh, grop. Every time Peepers thought about his name, he was forced to confront the fact that this…”Terry” was a _watchdog_. And Terry was such a normal and unassuming name too, perfect for a watchdog, Peepers thought with an eye roll.

Though unassuming as the watchdogs may be, Peepers found himself extremely anxious that Terry would reveal what happened. Peepers was sure he had made his point abundantly clear, but he still couldn't be one hundred percent certain that this guy would actually listen, or even _remember_ to stay quiet.

His paranoia started to become a little embarrassingly over-the-top. He had caught himself on multiple occasions eavesdropping on watchdog conversations, trying to listen for any sort of gossip that might pertain to him. The worst was when he nearly checked on Terry through the security cameras. Peepers had stood there at the console for several minutes, his finger hovering over the button to access the cameras, going back and forth in his mind about it, preforming mental gymnastics, creating pros and cons lists a million times over before finally storming away. Honestly, if Terry really _had_ said anything, it surely would have come to his attention by now.

When five days had passed since the incident, Peepers started feeling a bit antsy. He drummed his fingers against the surface of his desk, staring at his phone as he considered texting Terry for another meetup before he remembered himself. It hadn't even been a _week_  yet, and here he was, nearly making a fool of himself and appearing desperate and needy to a subordinate. He had told Terry that he just _might c_ all on him again, so what sort of an message would it send if he could hardly restrain himself from calling before even a _week_ had passed? Obviously this _was_  all for him, and really, he deserved to have this affair-of-sorts whenever he wanted, but he wasn't going to sacrifice his carefully constructed image all to sate a fleeting _urge_. After all, seeming too eager in _any_ given situation was always a careless move.

" _If_ I'm going to do this again," he muttered to himself for emphasis, "I'm going to wait this out _much_  longer."

He assuaged himself by letting his mind wander to that closet, replaying moments in his head as he touched himself.

Peepers’ resolve quickly started to dissipate once it had been a week and one day after the incident. This arrangement was supposed to keep his mind and body satisfied enough that he could get his work done without annoying distractions, but the way things were going now, it was doing the exact opposite. He was more strung out than usual, and the more desperate he got to meet up with Terry again, the more anxious he'd get about not waiting long enough and seeming too eager. But the longer he held off, the more he yearned for it. It was a never ending cycle of anxiety and it was starting to take a toll on his mental well-being.

Just the other day he thought he saw Terry working a console when he walked into the command room, shocking him so badly that he stumbled over his words in the middle of a briefing to Lord Hater. He was unable to completely regain his composure even after he realized his mistake, continuing to stutter and lose focus for the rest of the briefing.

And it wasn't the first time he mistook someone for Terry, either! It would startle him occasionally, before he reminded himself, irritated, that Terry was just a guard and part time janitor and therefore he had very little chance of ever bumping into him. 

(Peepers may have peeked at Terry's files to check up on the guy. Terrence Matthews: 2'5", 37lbs, recruited about 3 years ago.)

He reassured himself that this must be what it's like for anyone who experiences something like what he's experienced. That maybe the person you had a spontaneous one night stand with sticks in your psyche a bit...

But...this was getting ridiculous.

And anyway, that was the first time that it affected him in front of his _boss,_  so it was enough to set him on edge for the rest of the day. 

After two weeks, Peepers decided he'd hold out and wait one more week before he texted Terry.

After two weeks and 4 days, Peepers got out his phone and sent the message:

"Floor 6, Corridor E, janitorial closet—same place as before. 2100 hours."

He was practically buzzing after he hit send; out of excitement or anxiety he wasn't sure. He found himself pacing his room as he waited for a response. He just started to scold himself for acting like such a teenager when his phone pinged with a reply from Terry, not a minute after he sent the message.

"you got it"

Peepers smirked. How prompt. This watchdog was at his beck and call! It felt invigorating to exercise his power this way. Why didn’t he do this earlier? Why was he ever even concerned about seeming too "eager" anyway? He could do what he wanted! There was nothing to worry about!

But the prospect of heading back to the closet later that night left him in a tizzy the rest of the day, fretting from one thing to the next, trying to keep himself busy and distracted when all he could really think about was being back in that tiny, easily over-heated space again with Terry.

When it finally came time for Peepers to head over, he decided to not leave right away, his leg bouncing anxiously in his chair, staring at his phone as the digits slowly ticked up towards the hour. He wanted to make Terry wait, at least a little bit.

When it finally did strike nine, he got out of his chair and calmly, _calmly_  made his way to the closet. He couldn’t help but snicker inwardly as he passed some of the watchdogs on duty. They had absolutely _no idea_! If they knew where he was going right now they’d…heh, well.

Peepers chest tightened in a warm, and only slightly unpleasant combination of excitement and anticipation as he took the final few paces to the closet door.

"Oh hey," Terry said quietly as Peepers closed the door behind him. The watchdog was leaning up against the wall with his phone in hand, which he now slid back into his pocket. "So, um, hey there's something I wanna talk to you about."

Peepers froze mid-step. Was... Did he _t_ _ell_  someone? He looked... _guilty_.

Peepers thought he was in the clear after failing to hear any gossip about himself, but what if Terry _had_  told someone and the secret had just yet to spread far enough for it to get to him?

"What is it?" Peepers said, carefully, trying to keep his tone even.

"Well, uh. So, I know you said you didn't want me to tell anyone about any of this..."

Oh grop. He did. He told someone. Oh grop, oh _grop_ , Peepers was a dead man. He was going to lose his job over this for sure. Lord Hater was going to find out and kick him to the curb in an instant. What kind of commander sleeps with his underlings? What was Peepers _thinking_? This was the end of him. He could feel his head start to spin. He put a hand on his face, holding himself steady.

"You told someone," Peepers muttered.

"What, no, no!!" Terry waved his hands in front of him. "I didn't tell anyone I promise! That's actually what I wanted to talk about."

Peepers blinked. Wait, what?

"It's just like..." Terry looked up and away, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ever since we hooked up I've been kinda dying _to_  say something, ya know. And I didn't of course, like I said!" He held out his hands in a defensive position.

"It's just been really tough,” he continued with a shrug. “And I was wondering if, maybe, I could, like, tell my friends I hooked up with _someone_? But that, this 'person' doesn’t want me to tell anyone who they are. For privacy reasons. Or something.”

Peepers felt the blood start to come back to clear his head as he chastised himself internally for jumping straight to the worst possible conclusion. He just _wanted_  to spill the beans. Of course he didn’t actually tell anyone, how could he have? One doesn’t easily forget a threat from Commander Peepers.

“It's not a lie,” Terry continued. “Plus I'd be able to tell them what's actually going on without even hinting at the fact that it's you. They'd all assume it's another watchdog I'm getting with."

Oh, _right._  Watchdog relations.

The watchdogs were always incredibly social, and from early on in his career as commander, Peepers had caught on that some of the watchdogs he supervised would seem closer than others. Sometimes they’d even appear to...flirt with each other. It was possible that some of them were dating, though there was no way to confirm this without embarrassing himself. He had, of course, drawn the logical conclusion that some of the watchdogs might be... _involved_  with each other, in more intimate ways. Though how, he had no idea. They only had small, open cubbies big enough for one, and nowhere else to go other than maybe the bathrooms ( _eugh_ ).

But he tried not to dwell on it. So long as it didn't interfere with their duties and _he_  didn't have to see it, he wasn't going to try and enforce any kind of abstinence or anti-dating policy. Not only would that be bringing an incredibly obscene subject to the forefront of everybody's minds, but it would _never_ , _ever_  go over well. Implementing something like that would be just _begging_ for disaster. The skullship would turn into a hull of lechery and rebellion! Besides, Lord Hater presumably had no clue that any of it might be happening at all, and Peepers was perfectly content to keep it that way. He had no idea _how_  his boss might react if he _did_  ever find out... (Sometimes he wasn't even sure if Lord Hater knew what being _gay_  was, but that was a topic for another day. A day far, far off in the future. Possibly never.)

He started thinking about these friends of Terry’s, and how this was vaguely implying that Terry himself has been in relationships with other watchdogs… but stopped himself there before he let his mind wander any further.

He brought himself back to Terry’s proposition and considered him for a moment, but before he could actually respond, Terry spoke up again.

"It's just been really hard keeping a secret like this. I keep thinking about what happened and, it was just so..." His hand went back up to rub at his neck again, and this time he was unmistakably smiling. "It was kind of unbelievable? Like I literally had trouble believing it actually happened...especially since I only had my own memory to go by. I had to keep checking your contact on my phone to make sure," he chuckled.

Peepers' felt his own phone in his pocket, his mind bringing forth memories of himself doing the same thing, multiple times. It felt a tad embarrassing, but there _was_  some small comfort in knowing that he wasn't the only one. And, well… it was actually sort of flattering. He looked at the watchdog before him and could almost feel a bit of empathy. He himself never considered telling anyone of course, but that was just because he had no one _to_  tell. He was proud enough to admit that Lord Hater was the closest thing he had to a friend, and telling him obviously wasn't on the table, but if he did have someone else he could confide in, without consequences… well, he could definitely see finding a lot of relief in that.

"So, yeah, I mean I totally get if you aren't cool with me telling anyone anything, not even that," he continued. "I just wanted to ask, you know. See if you might be okay with the idea. But I know if I were in your position—"

"Yes, yes, okay, that's fine." Peepers waved at Terry, interrupting him. He was right, it wasn't like anyone would suspect him so long as he kept his name out of it.

"Oh.” Terry stopped. “Really? So... you're okay with it? Me telling people I hooked up with someone—er, _am_  hooking up with someone?” He shifted his weight, switching tracks. “Is this gonna be a regular thing now, by the way? I mean I'm one hundred percent down with it if it is, I was just curious."

Peepers shook his head, feeling a tad flustered. "Yes, I don't know. Maybe. Assume that it is. And yes, I permit you to tell others that you've 'hooked up' with _someone_. But only so long as you’re _s_ _ure_  you can keep my involvement a secret."

Terry brightened considerably. "Yeah! Yeah, I can totally do that!” He nodded, then almost sounded as if he was talking to himself. “Awesome!” He looked up back at Peepers. “I mean, yeah, cool. Cool!" He smiled, shoved his hands in his pockets, and looked at Peepers in a way that made him markedly uncomfortable.

"Uh, oh, also, that wasn't all I wanted to ask about," he added. "I was thinking about before, and how you kinda slapped my hand away that one time?"

Peepers inwardly grimaced. It had startled him when Terry made an advance when they were here last time; he had reacted before he even had time to think. It was a bit embarrassing, looking back.

"Well it had me wondering how you wanted this to go down exactly. Because, um, I can like, do stuff too, you know, of my own volition, but if you don't want me to—like, ever—that's something I should probably know up front..." he said. "If you wanna just lead the way the whole time that's cool too of course, I was just wondering. I don’t wanna do anything by accident that'd make you uncomfortable."

"I wasn't uncomfortable!" Peepers snapped. "I was just startled." Grop, okay, well, he wasn't planning on admitting weakness like that, but. There it was.

Terry blinked. "Oh. Uh. Okay. I’m sorry about that.” He sounded disgustingly sincere. “I can warn you next time, if you want."

Peepers groaned. When he actually had time to think about it, yes, he _did_  want him to touch him back. Reciprocation in these things was generally preferable. It was just, really, did they have to talk about it?? What was _with_ this guy?? They’ve been in this closet for several minutes now, and all he’d done was run his mouth and pester him with all these questions and _sincerity_.

"Ugh! No you don't have to _warn_  me," Peepers sneered. "And yes, okay, fine, you're allowed to..." He waved his hand vaguely in the air. "...do what you will. I won't stop you."

"Okay!" Terry nodded. "Um, we also should probably establish if there's anything else you might be uncomfortable with? Like anything I might do or not do, I don't want to accidentally—"

"Oh my grop, shut up, shut UP!" Peepers was done. He jabbed his index finger at Terry’s face as he closed in on him, backing him up against the wall, making him stagger backwards. "I am _done_. _Talking_. Talking time is over now. Zip it. I don't want to hear another word."

Terry looked at Peepers finger and then back at him nervously.

"But um, I really think it’s important t—"

"No.” He put his hand over where he presumed Terry's mouth was and was rewarded with muffled silence. "Shut it."

Terry looked at Peepers with concern in his eye and Peepers glared hard back at him, not flinching away for a moment. He didn't take his hand away until he was satisfied he wasn't going to speak again.

When he did finally take his hand away, Peepers huffed and straightened out his uniform, but it wasn't a moment before—

"Can I talk at all? Because sometimes I might need to."

Peepers could feel his blood pressure rise by the second. He squeezed his eye closed and balled his fists at his sides, trying to calm himself down. _You've dealt with worse than this Peepers, come on now. You can handle it._

"You may talk if you _need to_ ," he said carefully, attempting to keep his tone even, "but only if it's _absolutely necessary_. Otherwise... keep. Your mouth. _Shut_. Got it?"

"You got it, Commander." Peepers could have sworn he heard a smile in that voice, but he chose to ignore it for the sake of his health.

Speaking of health, they were here for a reason.

"Good. Now, if we could get on with it?" Peepers said, tapping his foot anxiously.

"Oh haha, yeah sure," Terry replied.

Peepers watched as Terry took a couple steps forward and reached out towards Peepers' waist, starting to pull him closer. He could immediately feel his pulse quicken and felt the urge to shove himself away, just managing to keep his hands still as Terry’s hips touched his ever so lightly. Terry smiled and closed his eye, leaning in gently towards Peepers. Peepers screwed his eye shut and smashed his lips against Terry’s, trying to outpace his nerves. Terry made a small sound of surprise, and Peepers felt himself flush in embarrassment—but he wanted this, gropdarnit, and he wasn't going to let this get the best of him.

He pulled Terry's hips harder onto his and all he could feel then was the pressure there, hard and warm. The sensation alone made him ache of wanting, and he used the momentum to carry his hand up the side of Terry's neck, gripping it and pulling him closer.

Terry kissed him back with equal enthusiasm, and Peepers shivered when he felt hands start to untuck his shirt and move under his uniform, fingers warm on his skin. Terry's hands slid up Peepers' sides, and one held him in place while the other went around to rest at the small of his back before slowly exploring upwards, running his fingers along his spine.

Peepers realized he had never really thought of _this_  sort of touching, but now that he was feeling it, he definitely could see the appeal. He could feel all the stress and nerves of the past two and some odd weeks ease out of him, as if there were never even there. This was what he needed. Just to touch, get it done, get back to work. It was like when he allowed himself to get 6 hours of sleep rather than 5, or when he splurged his tiny paycheck on nicer, sleeker cooking equipment, or when, on his birthdays, he took a nice bath, bought himself chocolates and wine, and stayed in for the night to watch his favorite black and white movies. It was for him; to relax, to take his time—to let _Peepers_  take priority for once. This was just like that, and there was no reason for him to feel ashamed, or scared, or embarrassed about any of it.

Finally able to relax a little bit, he licked Terry's lip and pressed into into his mouth, enjoying the wet warmth inside. He could hear Terry's breathing pick up a bit, obviously enjoying it as well.

Then Terry slowly ground his hips against his, sending an unexpected wave of arousal through him. Peepers nearly choked on his own tongue in surprise, shuddering as Terry did it again, taking a more solid grip on Peepers' hips as he pressed into him.

Peepers felt his heart pounding as his mind went into overdrive, quickly counting the layers of clothing between them, incredibly sensitive to the fact that their...they were essentially _touching_  each other with their own...with, well, of course there were a couple layers between, but _grop_  it hardly seemed to matter, he was halfway to hard and it felt amazing. Peepers held onto Terry for support, leaning into him as he tried rolling his hips once to match Terry's slow rhythm.

Peepers jumped when Terry moaned loudly in response. He didn’t have time to dwell on how amazing it sounded; the volume of it sent a jolt of fear down his spine and images flashed through his mind of someone hearing them and walking in, catching them in the act. Adrenaline spread like lightning through his system, and he shoved Terry hard, sending him tumbling back until he smacked against the wall of the closet. He hissed, quickly closing the gap between them to grab Terry by his collar, yanking at it hard enough to hear him choke slightly.

"Just where do you think we are?? If you blow our cover, you're _dead_. I'm sick of reminding you to _stay quiet_." He was panting still, both from the arousal and the fear, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

Terry nodded, holding up his hands in defense. "Y-yeah, sorry, just got a little caught up in the moment is all," he chuckled weakly, zipping his lips.

Peepers stared at him shrewdly before eventually releasing him, feeling like the point had gotten across, but also feeling suddenly very mortified at such a strong reaction. He just _threw_  him against a wall for grops sake.

But. No. He was going to own this. He'll take this by the reins, by grop, and _roll with it_.

He snatched Terry's hips roughly and pressed hard—eliciting a soft, quiet “Oh” out of the watchdog—rolling into him in such a scandalous way that even Peepers was shocked with himself. Keeping his eye shut and his own moans locked up in this throat, he rocked against Terry, head bowed.  His mouth involuntarily parted in a gasp when Terry started reciprocating, matching Peepers' pressure. Peepers was determined to be in control here, though, and leaned in for a demanding kiss, lifting one hand to grab Terry by the back of the neck and force his head in harder, keeping him there with their lips locked. He parted Terry's lips with his tongue, prodding forward as he varied his hip movement, going from fast and rough to slow and _hard_ , all the while Terry moving along for the ride, his breaths coming out strained in Peepers mouth, which was, just...an _incredible_  sensation.

After a minute of this, Terry pulled away, panting.

“Gotta breathe.”

He continued to rock against him shallowly, putting a hand on Peepers' shoulder and closing his eye, catching his breath.

The air in the small room hung hot and heavy, his clothes felt too tight, and it took everything in Peepers to not rip off his uniform right then and there. He could feel a slight burn in his thighs start to spread from all the standing, rocking, and the slight stretch forward and _up_  Peepers would occasionally perform to get at _j_ _ust_  the right spot, sending a jolt of pleasure through him that was overwhelming enough to help him forget about the ache. Getting a bit greedy, he did it again, once, twice—it was just so _good—_ but before he could get a third in, his knees wobbled and gave out, and he fell the short distance onto Terry, catching himself on his shoulders.

He righted himself immediately, shoving Terry's helpful hands off his arms.

For flarpin’ sake could Peepers do _anything_  without embarrassing himself somehow?

Before Peepers had a chance to do anything else, Terry asked, "Can I...?" as he brought his hands toward the hem of Peepers pants, his voice calm, gentle, quiet, still a bit breathless, and completely, 100% insufferable.

"I don’t know, _can_  you?” Peepers said in a mocking tone. Before he even finished the question, he realized he sounded exactly like a grade school teacher.

Terry looked blankly at Peepers for a moment, then his eyelid turned up in a wide grin. Peepers immediately flushed.

“ _Ugh_ ,” he huffed before Terry could respond. “You _don't_  need to _ask_.”

Then Peepers hooked his fingers around the hem of _Terry's_  pants, pulling them down along with his underwear, averting his gaze then moving to shove his own down as well. In a hot rush of embarrassment, Peepers felt his member catch on his underwear as he pulled his uniform down, bouncing slightly as it was released. He ignored it the best he could, focusing back in on Terry's hips and pulling them back towards him—not failing to catch a glimpse of Terry's arousal before it came into contact with his own.

Ohhh _grop_  that was good. It was strange and new, but it was so,  _so_ good.

Terry let out a choked gasp and Peepers only rut against him once before he let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. Terry moved slightly to line them up better, bending down just a bit so they slid up against each other perfectly—or as perfectly as they _could_  get in a cramped, dimly lit closet. Peepers' hips eventually found a beautiful, fantastic rhythm, but it wasn't long before his legs started to get a bit weak again.

Terry, possibly sensing this, wrapped his hands around on Peepers' back and pulled him close, supporting his weight and taking over the movement part for him. Peepers was inclined to protest, but the way Terry rocked into him was hypnotizing, making it absolutely impossible to say, think, or feel anything besides the slipping, sliding feeling of his... of the both of them, wet and _hot_  between them.

Peepers met Terry's thrusts weakly, his head spinning, anchoring himself with his hands gripping firm on Terry's sides. Terry’s head was bowed, close to Peepers’ ear, allowing Peepers to hear his panting and the occasional gasp and quiet moans. The sounds matched with their rutting was incredible, and Peepers had to choke down the whimper that kept rising in his throat.

As he held onto Terry, his mind kept trying to remind him how submissive he was being as he allowed this watchdog to take control, but with the current position they were in, Terry's height made it easier for him to meet Peepers rather than the other way around. He found himself absently wishing he was taller, but also in that exact moment couldn't care less...maybe he even _preferred_  being able to simply allow himself to be swept along in the pleasure.

Peepers jolted when he felt a hand touching his... touching the two of them, holding them together. Peepers shivered, tilting his head down and barely opening his eye to steal a glance at Terry's hand, which was now slowly moving up and down their lengths. The sight made him gasp, his chest tight, his whole body hot and pulsing. He screwed his eye tight again, breathing hard as the pleasure mounted. Terry started to pick up the pace, and Peepers could hear his breathing grow more ragged and uneven. He leaned his head against Terry's ever so slightly, feeling dizzy from the sensations that sent him extremely close to finishing.

Terry let out a strained moan, and with one fluid motion, swiftly lifted his free hand to his mouth, pulled off his glove with his teeth—oh glorn _almighty_  that was hot—and put his hand on top of the both of them, pulling Peepers slightly out of his daze in confusion before realizing exactly _why_  Terry did that as he tensed and groaned through the glove in his mouth, cumming into his hand.

Oh. _That_  was. Peepers' mind reeled at the sight, and all at once the salaciousness of it made him tense, only needing to rut into Terry a few more times before he came as well, unable to contain a relieved moan as the tension melted away into relief. He closed his eye again, panting heavily, absently noting Terry's chest heaving as he caught his breath. Caught up in the fuzzy relief, Peepers slowly started to lean against Terry.

Then his mind caught up with what just happened. His eye snapped back open and he took a step back to look at his shirt, checking for damage.

Clean. Oh thank grop.

He sighed and pulled his pants back up, getting his uniform back in proper order and promising himself to be more cautious.

Although, Peepers realized, that meant that if the mess wasn't on him, it was most likely all in Terry's hand. Peepers looked back up to see Terry with his pants fixed and reaching for a roll of paper towels from where they were perched on a high shelf.

"Heh yeah, those stains are killer to get out," Terry remarked lightly, having seen Peepers check himself over. "Especially with these uniforms. I learned that the hard way." He ripped off a sheet and used it to wipe off his hand.

"Wh..." The implications of that statement were insurmountable for Peepers at the moment, who was still feeling a bit fuzzy around the edges. He shook his head and took it slow. "You... _why_  do you know that?"

Terry looked at Peepers like a klorjack in headlights.

"Uh...I mean..." He gave Peepers a sheepish grin and shrugged.

"Stop! I don't wanna hear it!" Peepers said, holding a hand up. "I don't wanna know!"

Suffice to say, this was the closest thing he ever had to "proof" that the watchdogs did indeed hook up with each other.

...Though Terry _could_  also simply be referring to staining his uniform _himself_  which — okay, _that_  didn't necessitate contemplation.

...

Though honestly, if he was going to do that, the least he could do was take his uniform off or use tissues like a normal person. It really wasn't that hard.

But that _did_  make Peepers lean more on the side of _he did this with someone else_ , at which point he decided he was absolutely done with this line of logic. He really needed to get going anyway. He moved toward the door.

"No one's gonna get in trouble for that, are they?"

Peepers stopped with his hand on the doorknob. There was some genuine concern in Terry's voice that struck Peepers as surprisingly admirable.

He rolled his eye. "No. Whatever all of you do in your spare time is your own business. I have better things to do with my time."

"Ok. Cool." Terry shoved his hands in his pockets. Peepers noted that this was a nervous habit of his. He turned the doorknob.

"So, um, you have any idea if or, uh, when you might wanna come back here again? Or is it all kinda up in the air?"

Peepers squeezed the doorknob, then released it. He could have done worse, he really could have. But honestly, why did the _one_  watchdog that Peepers happened to grab have to be so _annoyingly talkative_.

But, he had to admit, the sex was fantastic, and he wasn't going to give that up, nor was he going to go try and find a better suited watchdog, because if he was being realistic? This was probably the best he was gonna get, so this is what he was going to have to learn to live with.

To answer his question... he didn't know. Things were way too haphazard right now for Peepers' liking but any attempt at coming up with some sort of schedule seemed impossible at the moment.

"I'll let you know, okay? Keep your phone on you." Peepers opened the door a crack before turning back and adding, "And remember, wait five minutes before you leave."

Terry gave Peepers a thumbs up and Peepers took his leave, closing the door behind him.


	3. The Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for the wait, we both got super duper busy with all kinds of stuff, just like one thing after the other these past couple months. But we're finally done with chapter 3!!!! Yay!!!! We hope you like it! It's a bit longer (another reason it took a while), but chock full of some real good stuff. Also just fyi, we do read all your comments and we love all of you sm. Every single person who's taken the time to stop and read our little story and leave kudos/comments/etc is a gift. There's still a TON of story left and it's gonna be SO good and I'm so so excited to start getting to it. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this chapter!! Happy holidays!
> 
> —Hannah
> 
>  
> 
> hey everyone!!! wow chapter three is finally done!!!!! remember how two weeks ago i posted on tumblr saying "ooh it'll be out any day now!!" well i was an optimistic Fool. the month of november was absolutely killer, and i THOUGHT it'd get easier in december, but i don't know what the he*k i was thinking. anyway, i hope you guys like it! if yall like THIS, just wait until the next chapter. oh boy. we are VERY excited 8) don't forget to check us out on tumblr , hannah [here](http://aferretlee.tumblr.com) and me [here](http://sincerelydeerly.tumblr.com)! until next time!!
> 
> \--case

After their last rendezvous, Commander Peepers spent the next week and change thinking about his schedule. More precisely, he spent a great deal of it thinking about the possibility of _creating_ a schedule for him and Terry. It was a bizarre idea, a schedule for sex, but Peepers was certainly not opposed to it. Afterall, he was a busy man, and busy men need order in their lives if they ever wanted to get anything done in an organized fashion. And anyway, it was going to be a huge pain in the butt if he was going to have to keep analyzing the social ramifications of texting Terry _every single time_ he wanted to hook up. Because really, who had the energy for that.

So, in the end, after a good romp with Terry ten days later, Peepers informed him that they'd be meeting there every week on Thursday at 9pm.

It was really the most pragmatic time to do it. During every day of the week Peepers was busy from dusk til dawn (metaphorically of course) managing Lord Hater's needs, his meals, his temper—basically his every whim—all so that he would be placated and ready for action when invasion time came. When Lord Hater had his time alone, Peepers did rounds on the ship, checking in on different departments, dictating the course of the ship, punishing watchdogs for various misdemeanors, and generally making sure everything was in order. In the evenings, Peepers would be hard at work in his room; doing research on planets, formulating plans, working on weaponry and better tech for the army, doing taxes, signing off on various statements and contracts, and falling asleep at his desk.

There wasn't any particular time when Peepers was free, per se, but with a little bit of creative rescheduling he was able to clear a couple hours on Thursday night. Yes, he knew a couple hours was… generous, to say the least, but he also knew there would be times when he might want to take things slow, maybe drag things out…and more realistically it accounted for any time Terry might waste running his mouth. Anyway, he picked Thursday knowing it would be a good reward for himself near the end of the week—though not the week _end_ , as he knew many of the watchdogs usually made plans then and Peepers was generally very overwhelmed with work during that time anyway. After checking Terry's work schedule and confirming he would be free, all it took was a little rescheduling of Peepers’ workload. (He'd just stay up a bit later a few days during the week, it wouldn't be too big of a deal.)

He knew a weekly meeting may seem a bit...frequent...but he justified it by telling himself several things. 1) He deserved it. His weeks were long and hard and he genuinely could use a reliable de-stressor. 2) It was the easiest timetable to remember since it was always on the same day at the same time, meaning Terry would have no excuse to forget it. 3) He did _not_ want to endure the trouble of waiting longer than two weeks like last time. And 4) He could do what he wanted.

So that was that.

"Oh. Every week?" Terry had asked, ripping off a sheet of paper towel and wiping off his hand.

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"No, not at all," he said, smiling and tossing the soiled sheet into the garbage.

He had all but imagined every response Terry might have objecting to the schedule, but it was good to see he was on board. Really, this watchdog seemed on board for anything Peepers _ever_ suggested. He was just about to count himself lucky before Terry opened his mouth again.

“So I guess I’m that good, huh?”

Peepers made a face.

The schedule seemed to work perfectly, doing well to put Peepers' mind at ease, no longer having to stress about his pride when texting Terry. He hardly even texted him at all now, really only keeping his number in his contacts as a formality. Though... occasionally he _did_  indulge himself and messaged Terry for an unscheduled meetup.

Those, Peepers learned, were always a bit more exciting.

The first time he did it, Peepers had been agonizing over his phone, staring at the typed out message he prepared but couldn't bear to send. It had been a terrible past couple of days, with three ruined invasions in a row as well as several Hater tantrums, one of which left half the food court in ruins. Peepers had been swamped dealing with insurance claims and desperately needed to take his mind of things, if only for a little while... But it had only been three days since their weekly session. And Peepers hated to admit it, but he felt way too embarrassed to text Terry again. But he _also_ couldn't bring himself to delete the message and have to wait out the subsequent days until the next Thursday. He didn’t want to have to wait, he wanted this _now_.

His eye scanned the message again for the fifty-eighth time, tapping his desk anxiously. "Meet me in the closet. Now." It was simple and direct, a command, no questions asked, do as you're told.

Grop, he couldn't do this. Yes he could. No, absolutely not, this was unprofessional, there was—no... _wait_. Unprofessional…?? There was nothing professional about _any_ of this! For crying out loud, he was having _casual sex_ with a subordinate!

Setting his shoulders, he screwed his eye shut and hit send. When his phone gave a confirming sound to let him know the message sent, he breathed, leaning back in his chair. That wasn't so hard, now, was it?

His phone chimed seconds later, making Peepers jump. He scrambled to right himself, grabbing his phone to see Terry's nearly instantaneous response.

"omw"

Peepers nearly fell out of his chair in a rush like a complete _idiot_ and burned with shame as he briskly made his way to the closet. His mind wouldn't stop racing, as always, too many trains of thought zooming around and making circles.

When he finally opened the door to the closet, he didn't give Terry a chance to say a word before he slammed his lips to his and pinned him to the wall, bringing his mind to a screeching halt.

After that, Peepers felt _much_ better.

Aside from that, the weekly... "sessions" worked perfectly to keep his stress levels much lower. Not only did it relieve tension, but whenever Lord Hater was off chasing after that wandering freak and ruining his perfectly good invasions, or whenever he really just needed to _simmer down_ , all he had to do is count the days to Thursday. It was actually quite the effective mantra.

It was perfect, everything was in order, and Peepers had never felt better.

But of course, one Thursday, Terry just _had_ to try and mess up the routine.

"So hey, um, I've been thinking. You have your own room, right?"

Peepers squinted at him, immediately suspicious. "Yeeeesss..."

"Well…” Terry said carefully, “I was just thinking that it might be easier and more comfortable if we used your room instead of coming here all the time. I mean not that this closet doesn't have it's charm, of course." Terry smiled and looked around the room, wistful. "I wouldn't blame you for being a bit sentimental. I've started to grow a bit fond of this place too. That bucket in the corner...the paper towels...the loose ceiling panel..." He sighed. Peepers legitimately couldn't tell if he was being facetious.

"Wh—no I'm not—" He shook his head. "We _cannot_ use my room, are you joking? What if Lord Hater suddenly showed up, knocking on my door looking for me? And besides, no watchdogs are ever allowed in! What if someone saw you coming or going? What would they think? At best they'd see it as you getting preferential treatment, and at _worst_ , well." Peepers laughed once, sharply, and crossed his arms. "No. We are not doing that."

"Right, but I mean, hear me out: I know my way around the ship and I know everyone's shifts. I know which guys tend to slack off and which ones I'd have to find another way around... I'd be able to slip in and out without anyone seeing me, I’m almost sure of it."

"I'm sorry, which guys slack off?" Peepers said, squinting and leaning towards Terry.

"Uh—well." Terry avoided his gaze. "Listen, I don't wanna get anyone in trouble."

"Uh-huh. Anyway, the answer is _no_. It's way too risky. Forget it."

Terry shrugged. "Alright."

But over the next couple of days, Peepers couldn't stop thinking about it. Peepers _was_ a thinker after all, and it was only natural that his mind would start to produce ideas of things that they could do... in an actual bed... with adequate lighting...

He was alone in his room now, _in_ the actual bed, trying to forget about it, trying to remind himself of how truly risky it was... but if anything that just made it _more_ appealing??

He finally gave up and texted him.

"You said you knew how to slip in and out without being seen. How confident are you? Are you willing to bet your life on it?"

"uh maybe not my life"

Peepers groaned and slammed his phone down next to him on the bed. It buzzed again a moment later.

"id say about 95% sure"

...Peepers could work with 95%. After all, what they were doing was incredibly risky as it was. Someone could walk in on them in the closet at any moment, and Peepers’ door had a _proper_ lock. Not to mention better soundproofing.

"Prove it. This Sunday, come to my room." (He didn't want to wait until Thursday this time, best to just get it over with if this turned out disastrous somehow.)

"u got it :)"

Peepers was sitting in his chair at a quarter to nine, rocking back and forth and tapping on his desk, eye flitting to the door and then to his own bed. Occasionally he'd get up, rearrange things on his desk, smooth out his bedspread, adjust his pillows. He didn't know what to do with himself, his mind racing in a million different directions.

Soon Terry would be coming through that door, into his room, onto his bed. Terry would make his way through the halls and Peepers prayed to every deity he'd ever heard of that he was telling the truth when he said he knew what he was doing.

Was it wrong to have decided to do this? It couldn't have been much more wrong than what they were already doing, right?

Was it _more_ or _less_ incriminating to be found fraternizing with a subordinate in a closet or in your own bedroom? It probably depended on what you were doing when they caught you. Peepers shivered. He reminded himself he needed to make sure to lock that door. Double—no, triple check that that door was locked.

Was there anything he was forgetting? He must've been forgetting something. He had tissues on the nightstand, lube in the drawer—um, just in case—sheets clean and pillows fluffed for maximum comfort, moist towelettes and freshly laundered towels ready in the bathroom in case he needed to clean up, and the laundry basket was empty and ready for anything soiled.

Really, he was probably _over_ prepared. Though of course he had made sure none of his preparations were anything that was readily obvious, lest he seem like an overeager idiot.

... _Was_ he being an overeager idiot? Grop, did he seem to be more worried about that these days than usual.

The next several minutes passed by agonizingly slow, with Peepers checking the clock on his nightstand about every thirty seconds. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he finally heard a quiet knock on the door at 8:59pm.

Peepers, already near the door, slid his finger slightly over the sensorpad next to it, opening it just enough to see Terry outside, hands in pockets, looking back at him. Peepers leaned out slightly, checking the hall to make sure he definitely hadn't been seen.

"Hey—"

"Get in," Peepers said, opening the door all the way and moving to the side, gesturing for Terry to come in, and quickly. Terry ducked his head and went inside, immediately taking in his surroundings with a wide eye.

"You're early," Peepers said, locking the door with a quick few taps to the keypad.

"Huh?" Terry said, clearly distracted. He turned back to look at Peepers.

"I said you're early."

"Oh. Am I?" Terry, concerned, pulled out his phone and checked the time, then turned the screen to Peepers, pointing at it. "It's nine. You said nine, right?"

Peepers huffed. "Well, it wasn't nine a minute ago."

Peepers eyed the bed behind Terry, suddenly very anxious. He quickly turned around and did his promised double and triple check of the lock.

"Well...no, I suppose that _is_ true..." Terry said, conciliatory.

Peepers realized his mistake and quickly pushed out his embarrassment in favor of annoyance. That always seemed like the most effective course of action.

"You um... sure do have a lot of Lord Hater stuff," Terry said.

Peepers whipped back around to see Terry looking around the room again, this time walking over to Peepers' desk and tapping the head of a Lord Hater bobble head. It bounced vigorously and emitted a lo-fi recording of his evil laugh.

A second later, Peepers was next to Terry, yanking the toy away from him in a flash.

He hadn’t even thought about all the stuff he had around his room when he was preparing for Terry to come over.

"What exactly did you expect?" Peepers snapped, not quite able to look him in the eye and speaking in a rush. "I'm his second in command, I am dedicated to this empire—it's a little thing called 'brand loyalty', maybe you've heard of it?"

Okay, so maybe he was covering his butt, but it wasn't like it wasn't true! He _was_ dedicated! He cared about merchandising! He just... also liked looking at Lord Hater’s face? Was that such a crime?? He was an incredibly imposing figure! It was... inspiring!

Whatever. It didn't matter.

Peepers placed the bobble head on the other end of the desk, where it bounced and laughed again, mocking him.

"Right, yeah, I just... didn't know some of this merch even existed..." Terry said, eyeing a pencil topper in the shape of Lord Hater’s head.

"Yes, well, not everything here has been greenlit for distribution yet. Or ever will be." Peepers considered some of the posters on his walls that he had had printed up for his own, personal use, then over at the reject shelf, situated above his desk, filled with prototypes of toys Lord Hater had personally requested be made but Peepers managed to convince him out of mass producing. The Skullship giftshop—not frequented often due to exorbitant prices—had plenty of Lord Hater inspired products, all very costly to make, and it really didn't need more items like "Hula Hater" or "The Lord Hater Singin' Toothbrush".

"So you're in charge of merchandising too?" Terry asked.

"I'm in charge of everything,” he replied, curt.

"That must be fun."

Peepers rolled his eye. "We have very different definitions of 'fun'."

"Do we?" Terry replied, cheeky. Before Peepers could get too worked up, he continued with a laugh, "And anyway, I meant that the merchandising sounds fun! You get to approve toys and t-shirts and stuff? That sounds awesome!"

Terry took one more look around the room before walking over and plopping himself down on the bed. Peepers’ heart picked up slightly at the sight.

"Oh wow..." Terry murmured, immediately distracted. He bounced slightly on the bed and took off his gloves to run his hands over the comforter. "This is so soft!"

He laid back, his legs still dangling off the side, and spread out his arms.

"This bed is so _comfy_!" he said, shifting around. "This is way better than what we get in our cubbies! ...Uh," He sat up, looking back at Peepers, "not that I'm ungrateful for the room and board you provide, um, sir."

Peepers made a sound of acknowledgement but didn't say much else. Terry continued, unprompted, going on about how long it's been since he'd seen a real bed, what his bed back home was like, and other uninteresting minutia. Peepers could hardly listen, his heartbeat now loud in his ears, his thoughts drowning out Terry's words. His mind was reeling back, reminding him of all the different ideas he had come up with regarding, well, things they could do in a bed, thinking about the simple fact that there was a watchdog _in_ his bed—in his _room_ at all. It was definitely strange to say the least, but now Terry was sitting there in front of him, real as day, and reality of that fact was really starting to hit him. The danger and risk still felt real, but now overpowering all those fears was the fact that they truly _could_ do whatever they wanted, _be_ as loud as they wanted, and all while _laying down._ It would be a saving grace to his legs to say the least… But with all the ideas running through his head at once, he struggled to pinpoint any particular idea over the other. His master skills of prioritization were suddenly nowhere to be found.

“Sooo…” Terry said, snapping Peepers out of his reverie, “you still wanna do this?”

“What?! Of course I do.”

He just had to figure out _what_ to do.

“Cool,” Terry said with a smile as Peepers strut over to stand in front of him, between where his knees were spread out, relaxed, “‘Cause I’ve been lookin’ forward to this.”

“Oh. Were you?” he asked, thrown, but with a valiant attempt at nonchalance. The way Terry said that was _way_ too sultry and Peepers was _not_ used to that, coming from him. He traced his fingers lightly on Terry’s thigh, busying his attention so as to not seem affected. “It _is_ a lot nicer than that dusty old closet, I guess.”

“Yup. Beds are awesome,” he said, swinging his legs. When Peepers looked back at him Terry had this... _look_. Some sort of cross between relaxed amusement and...wantonness.

Peepers felt himself flush, and without a reply, he leaned towards Terry, one hand pulling him close and the other still on his thigh. He didn't kiss rough like he normally did, instead opting for slow and deep, taking his time in Terry's mouth as he tried to refocus on what he wanted to do. It was incredibly difficult not getting distracted by the way Terry used his tongue, though, and his attention was caught rapidly flickering between the two things: Peepers desperately trying to come up with something good to do, and the way Terry's hands moved to grip his waist and pull him closer as Terry deepened their kiss. All this was a bit of a mental workout and had him lightheaded in no time.

Finally making a proper move, Peepers pressed into Terry, forcing him onto the bed, where Terry reached out a hand behind him to keep himself upright. Peepers, who no longer _wanted_ to be upright, crawled up onto the bed on his hands and knees, straddling Terry and pressing him down flat onto the bed.

There was a muffled "um" from Terry and Peepers pulled back, his blood instantly running cold.

"Sorry, mind if I take this off?" Terry asked, lifting his head and taking off the helmet that had been awkwardly wedged between his head and the bed. He looked around for somewhere to put it, opting to just toss it off the side of the bed.

Peepers listened to it clank onto the floor as his mind veered.

He had not actually considered the fact that they might be disrobing until...well, just then. It certainly made _sense_ now that they could lie down and take their time, but this was _not_ a scenario Peepers had mentally prepared for. He had prepared for so much but...somehow this particular detail had managed to slip his mind.

It wasn't like he had a problem getting naked—er, well okay he _might_ struggle with that a little bit when the time came but he was sure he would be able push through any embarrassment or discomfort he might feel—but he was still Terry's commander, and taking off his clothes would mean stripping himself of all his visual signifiers of authority. He never took his helmet in front of subordinates, or really, anyone, for exactly this reason. The only time anyone ever saw him with it off was when it was knocked off for some reason (Lord Hater, usually), and sure it was always a bit demoralizing, but he always got it back on his head without much delay.

This would be different though. He'd be keeping it off in front of someone, willingly, for a solid chunk of time.

He had had his helmet for years; it was a comfort, a source of confidence... He couldn't remember the last time he had willingly interacted with someone without it on. When he really thought on it, he couldn't remember doing so since the uniforms had been _made_. (He had designed them himself, making sure that his stood out from the rest; he had to because Lord Hater couldn't tell him apart from the watchdogs back then, much to Peepers' indignation. The added height was just a little coincidental bonus, of course.)

But now he was faced with a dilemma. He _had_ to take it off. Or, well, he didn't _have_ to, obviously, but it would be way too weird to take everything else off but his helmet, right? He wasn't even sure if they _would_ be undressing completely but it seemed likely, now that they actually could.

"Um... Commander?"

Peepers snapped back into the present to see himself still on his hands and knees with Terry below him. He wasn't sure how long he had been lost in his thoughts but it had been long enough that Terry now had a concerned look on his face instead of a sultry one.

Peepers, before he could stop himself, snatched his helmet off his head and tossed it aside.

Terry was slightly surprised by the sudden movement but otherwise just looked at Peepers curiously for a moment.

"Huh," he said.

Peepers flushed, immediately self conscious. “What?!"

"Oh, nothing, sorry, it's just," Terry tilted his head and looked him over, making Peepers feel a million times _more_ self conscious than he already was, "it's sort of funny to remember we're like... the same."

Peepers shook his head. "W-what are you talking about?"

"It's just that like...your helmet is like...well I guess I sorta forget it's not part of you, weirdly?" he laughed. "Kinda stupid, sorry."

Peepers was speechless and stared back at him, dumbfounded. After a few moments of silence between them, Terry started to look a bit anxious.

"Um. You look great though!" he clarified.

Peepers breathed.

Okay, this was stupid. He didn't need anyone telling him how good he looked. He knew he looked good. He always looked good! With or without his helmet!

Peepers shook off the rest of his doubts and put his mouth back onto Terry, trying his best to rekindle the excitement and passion he had been feeling earlier. Terry exhaled, seeming to easily forget the conversation as he placed a hand on Peepers back. Peepers started making his way down Terry's neck, one hand sliding under his shirt, and once he heard the shift in Terry's breathing, he could feel himself starting to get back into the warm flow of things.

Having to stop his ministrations just short of Terry's collarbone, Peepers pulled back with a quick huff and a yank on Terry's shirt. Terry got the idea and lifted his arms, allowing Peepers to slide it off with ease and throw it to the side.

And now he suddenly had a very topless Terry below him.

Peepers exhaled and allowed himself to take in the sight for just a moment before closing back into the irresistible warmth of Terry's chest. He was breathless, mindlessly teasing at Terry's collarbone as he pressed his hand up his chest, enraptured by the glimpses he allowed himself of so much _skin_ . He always noted the wondrous warmth of skin when they were in the closet, but experiencing it like this, so well-lit and close, and so much all at the same _time—_ this was something else.

Peepers' mind quickly started to go down memory lane with Patrick, and he forcibly banished the thoughts, allowing himself the distraction of several glimpses of Terry's chest beneath him. Not only having Terry underneath him, but topless as well, made him feel...powerful. He was in control, he could do this, he could do anything! And nothing was holding him back!

Nothing except his gloves.

As soon as he noticed that he wasn't actually making skin-on-skin contact, it was all he could think about. This was the only thing keeping him from all this _glorious_ warmth, and he now had to figure out some nonchalant way of removing them. Or maybe...a sexy way? Is that the route he wanted to go down? Was he getting too distracted and Terry was noticing and not enjoying himself anymore? He made a quick glance down and, no, Terry definitely still seemed to be enjoying himself.

This was pointless. Feeling himself get more and more off course, Peepers pulled himself away to a kneeling position so he could take off his gloves. He wanted to make it one fluid motion, but the gloves wouldn't budge, sticking to his sweaty palms.

Perfect.

He tugged on each individual finger, loosening the fabric from his hand, and prayed Terry would just _please_ keep his mouth—

"Yeah, gloves, am I right?" Terry put his hands behind his head, obviously relaxed and oblivious to Peepers' frustration.

Peepers bristled and huffed, taking out his embarrassment on the offending articles by yanking them off with brute force. Despite the slight suction they seemed to have on his hands, he was able to get them off with a loud snap, and promptly lobbed them across the room with a frustrated “Ugh!”.

Peepers sat himself onto Terry with another annoyed huff and quickly found his face heating back up when he felt exactly where he was seated, and felt what was _there_ , and—well.

Terry reacted slightly as well, breathing in and placing gentle hands on Peepers thighs, no doubt enjoying such well placed and… _suggestive_ pressure. Rolling with it, Peepers shifted experimentally. He was immediately rewarded not only with a small sound from Terry but the incredibly vivid sensation of—well, something quite _nice_ sliding against his...well...

He was reminded of the one time he was in a similar position with Patrick—but that had been dimly lit and cramped, and this was already so, so much better. He rocked his hips again, more deliberately this time, and the simultaneous sensation of feeling Terry underneath him and seeing him there, topless with pleasure in his eye, sent tingles through Peepers’ gut. He leaned forward and braced himself over Terry, his heart pounding in his chest as he started up a rhythm.

Terry smiled and let out a small moan, holding onto Peepers’ hips as he moved, pressing him down ever so slightly harder. Peepers’ heart thrilled at the sensation—but Terry's eye was on Peepers now and, as always, direct eye contact was unbearable for anything longer than two seconds, so Peepers averted his gaze back onto Terry's chest, which led to him sneaking a look between the two of them.

The sight of himself, bulging through his pants and meeting flush with Terry's hips, Terry's own erection straining under the fabric and underneath Peepers—it sent a fierce wave of desire through him. Peepers’ mind started to race with all sorts of lascivious thoughts, making him shudder as heat spread on his face.

Making a decision, he ground hard against Terry once more, savoring the warm, hard pressure against his backside, then sat back up and off, leaving a startled and confused Terry in his wake.

“Move,” Peepers said, gesturing to the pillows at the head of the bed before Terry could ask what was going on.

Terry glanced back at the pillows. “Oh,” he said pleasantly, pulling his feet up onto the bed and scooching over to where Peepers wanted him.

Peepers was completely in the zone, more so than he ever had been before: he knew what he was doing, he was focused, in charge, and…grop, _really_ horny. And now that he knew exactly what he wanted, he was so, _so_ ready. But just as he started moving towards Terry, he saw him look down at his boots and frown, and an ominous feeling landed in the pit of Peepers’ stomach. He could just tell, he just _knew_ this was going to be some distraction, and whatever it was, Peepers was _not_ having any of it.

“I should take these off.” Terry started tugging at his boots, managing to get one off, then the other, and placed them on the floor off the side of the bed. “I don't wanna get your bed dirty.”

“Oh.” Peepers stopped and looked down at his own boots, and all at once his posture went slack.

“Yes. You're right,” he said. That... _was_ probably a good idea. He did just wash these sheets, after all. He kicked off his own boots and arranged them nicely on the other side before crawling back over to Terry.

Anyway.

Terry was now leaned comfortably up against the pillows and headboard behind him, a relaxed smile on his face. This was actually the perfect position for what Peepers wanted to do. He had never done this before, and was sort of terrified, but the current of arousal that spread through him as he considered it fueled him to proceed. He looked Terry up and down, his eye lingering on his crotch. He tried to stop the thoughts in his brain that distracted him and only furthered his anxiety, _forced_ himself to clear his mind, and tried his best to just let his body do what it wanted.

Terry tilted his head like he was about to ask something, but before he could, Peepers brought himself close, straddling one of Terry's legs, and pressed a hand firmly against his erection, groping him through the fabric.

"Ahh!" Terry's hand snapped to Peepers arm, holding tight onto him as Peepers did his best to grip onto his form and stroke him through the layers of clothing.  
  
Impatient and achingly desperate for more, Peepers roughly shoved Terry's pants down and took hold of him, unable to keep his rhythm slow _or_ steady. Terry gasped and tightened his grip on Peepers, weakly kicking his pants away as Peepers pressed his face against the side of Terry's head, breathing in his moan. He couldn’t keep himself from shivering at Terry’s intense reactions—the likes of which Peepers had never allowed before considering their closet wasn’t soundproof. Now, with Terry moaning and holding onto him so tightly, he could hardly contain himself, his heart was beating out of his chest and he could feel himself get harder with every sound.  
  
Now was the moment of truth. He felt competent and ready, there was no better time.

His eye flitted between Terry and the member in his hand, his mouth watering and his chest starting to tighten with anxiety. Terry opened his eye and looked curiously at Peepers, who had slowed down considerably.

Peepers took a deep breath, swallowed, and moved himself down to Terry’s crotch, face to face with his member. He stole a quick, last-second glance at Terry, who had gone wide-eyed and flushed, squeezed his eye shut and wrapped his mouth around the head of Terry's member.  
  
Terry near-shouted in his gasp, sending a jolt of arousal through Peepers as he slid his tongue and mouth down over him, doing his best to take in as much as he could. It was a tad salty, and felt much bigger now that it was in his mouth, but it was the opposite of unpleasant. He could feel his own erection pulsing through his uniform, the feeling and mere concept of what he was doing making him lightheaded with arousal.

His lips caught on the skin slightly, and Peepers realized things weren't quite slick enough, so, not allowing himself enough time to think about how disgusting or compromising it might look, he pulled off and licked his hand, stroking him a few times to get him wet, then licked a stripe up the underside for good measure. Terry shivered and moaned with a tremble in his voice, placing a hand on the back of Peepers' head and fisting the bedding with the other. Thoroughly encouraged, Peepers put his mouth back on him and tried swirling his tongue as he went down, like he remembered both Terry and Patrick doing for him before.

"Hahh!" Terry fisted and re-fisted at the covers, seemingly floundering to hold onto something. His breathing was loud and strained in Peepers’ ears and Peepers could barely contain his _own_ moan as he fastidiously slid his mouth up and down.

Within a minute Peepers felt his chest start to burn and pulled off, realizing like an _idiot_ that he needed to breathe. He kept his hand on Terry, stroking him as he caught his breath for a few seconds. The entire time, he couldn’t stop thinking about how much nicer having Terry in his mouth was than he imagined it to be, how much he really, _really_ enjoyed it. How good it felt, how good it felt to have _Terry_ in his mouth, just the girth and the salt and the warmth, it was so much, and it had his arousal mounting at a dizzying speed.

He glanced up at said watchdog for a moment and was immediately overwhelmed by just how _erotic_ he looked. Eye barely open, a handful of Peepers' covers tight in his fist, looking back at Peepers like he held his life in his hands.

 _Glorn_ _almighty_.

Reminding himself to breathe through his nose this time, Peepers put his mouth back on him, experimentally teasing at the head, relishing the new and strange taste of his pre-cum. His heart pounded hard in his chest, all the blood seeming to really only be going one place, and as Peepers swirled his tongue underneath, he briefly glanced up to gauge Terry's reaction. Terry jolted at the sensation but noticed Peepers watching him and smiled, unable to contain a strange half-moan, half-chuckle. This went _straight_ to Peepers junk and he was unable to contain himself as he attempted to take all of him in, his mouth meeting the small patch of hair at Terry's base. It wasn't too difficult, their people were small and their junk was pretty much proportional to their size.

Terry groaned, low and long, and Peepers felt himself get breathless almost immediately. He kept himself there however, breathing through his nose and moving his tongue the best he could.

Having all of him in there, filling up his mouth, was the most lewd, most _incredibly_ feeling, and Peepers was aching, desperate now to be touched.

"Peepers..." Terry moaned, his voice nearly a whine.

 _Peepers_ felt like he could whine. Terry had never called him just "Peepers" before but grop did he _not_ care right now. 

He swallowed a few times, creating a suction that had Terry gripping fruitlessly at the back of Peepers' head and gasping loudly.

"Peepers," Terry said, more urgent now, his fingers pressing hard against Peepers head, "Peepers, I'm really close..."

It took a moment for Peepers to register the implications of that, and going against everything his body _told_ him he wanted, he pulled off of Terry to finish him off with his hand. Terry's breathing picked up into moans and he tensed as he came, his eye squeezed shut. Peepers shakily held his other hand over the tip as he stroked him through it, attempting to keep his cum from getting anywhere.

Peepers, his chest and pants achingly tight, turned his palm towards him to inspect the damage. Another shot of arousal hit him as he saw the small blob of sticky white, most of it on his hand, but just a little bit of it that had slipped past his fingers and onto Terry's abdomen. Terry caught his breath while Peepers sat up and reached for the tissues to wipe off his hands, his member sliding against the inside of his pants just enough to have Peepers holding back a whimper.

When he looked back, Terry reached for him, his eye still hazy but his movements sure. He pressed Peepers into the bed, his mouth immediately on Peepers neck.

"That," he said in between wet kisses and sensual licks, "was awesome."

Peepers _wanted_ to respond sarcastically, to say something biting or cold or derisive, but he was already so far gone, and in that moment Terry had slipped a hand up his leg, and as he did so, barely, _barely_ managed to nudge against his crotch, and Peepers was instantly and completely mentally unavailable.

Terry busied himself with teasing, pressing his hand under Peepers' shirt and licking at his neck, but Peepers' was past that at this point and gripped his arm, silently hoping Terry would sense his urgency and get _to it_.

Terry, seeming to get Peepers' message, slid his hand down to the hem of his pants. He slipped a few fingers under, gliding achingly slow towards Peepers' straining erection, and Peepers could feel himself twitch in anticipation despite the tight fabric. But just as Terry's hand _barely_ ghosted a touch on him, his hand slipped back out and moved back towards his chest again.

Peepers gasped for breath. He had _not_ expected him to do that, and wasn’t entirely sure whether or not that was purposeful cruelty or just obliviousness. He remained quiet for now, trying to keep himself from whimpering as Terry groped him.

But then Terry slid his hand back down Peepers' chest to his thigh, his thumb _purposefully_ catching on Peepers' bulge at he passed it. Peepers choked. His hand involuntarily tightened around Terry's arm.

" _Terry_."

"What's up?" Terry caressed the inside of Peepers' thigh.

He didn't know how to reply. 'Stop' wouldn't work since he didn't want him to _stop_ he wanted him to _touch him already_ . 'Touch me' sounded too desperate. 'Please' was out of the question. 'Get on with it' was _better_ but would make it seem like he wanted it done with fast, which he didn't necessarily...

After several long seconds of no reply, Terry pulled his hand away.

"Something wrong?"

Oh _grop_ now there was _attention_ turned towards it, now Terry was going to try to _talk_ and he'd have to come up with _words_ and—and just,

" _Just_ ," Peepers said aloud, and took Terry's hand and _just put it_ on the bulge of his pants.

Terry blinked. "Oh. Haha, sorry." He started moving his hand and Peepers couldn't help the sound that came out of him now that he was _finally_ getting some friction. "Do you not want me to do that kind of teasing?"

Peepers _knew_ if he spoke that his voice would betray him, so he didn't reply. Terry didn't seem to expect a response though, as he continued what he was doing, pressing hard through Peepers' uniform but not good enough, not _close_ enough, Peepers needed to be _touched_.

He could feel himself edging closer by the second, so since he preffered _not_ cumming in his pants, he shimmied and kicked them off. Luckily he was enraptured enough in the heat of the moment that he didn't feel particularly self conscious with nothing covering him, but then Terry had be like "Oh, here lemme—", and help him slip off his shirt as well, and then Peepers was suddenly...well.

100%, stark naked.

Peepers swallowed hard, fighting off every urge that suddenly shot through him to cover himself.

Fortunately, Terry pretty much kept his eye to himself, only glancing down at him for a fraction of a second before meeting his eye again with a gentle smile. Terry then licked his hand and drifted it back onto Peepers' member, using the pre-cum and saliva to stroke him properly and _wonderfully_ , _grop_ , Peepers could feel his eye roll back before he closed it, unable to think anything coherent.

"It's a lot easier like this huh?" Terry mused. Peepers could only pant, sounds coming out of his mouth like small breathy moans as he held onto Terry.

"Heh, yeah... Dang, having a bed is super nice," Terry continued, as if Peepers had replied. He added a twist onto the end of his stroke, seemingly oblivious to the bruise that Peepers was almost definitely leaving on Terry's arm at this point. He could _feel_ how close he was.

"I was super excited when I got your text about coming here. I know the risk makes things a bit trickier and all but... I think having a flat surface makes it worth it. I mean, I don't think I've been able to do anything like _this_ for a while."  Peepers knew under normal circumstances he'd be telling Terry to shut up but at the moment he could barely even hear anything Terry was saying, only able to concentrate on the way his hand was...good _grop_ that _hand_ , it was all he could think, all he could feel.

"Oh and seriously though, that was awesome, what you did. Definitely wasn't expecting it," Terry chuckled. "I guess the element of surprise can add a lot, huh?"

Through the haze, Peepers cracked his eye open just a fraction to see Terry looking back at him. After a moment, sudden concern crossed his face.

"Wait, actually, do you want me to...?" Terry glanced down to what he was doing briefly before looking back at Peepers. After a beat, he stopped stroking and crawled down to Peepers' waist, which made Peepers let out a horrible and embarrassing whine—he was so so close, why did he _stop_.

"Ah, sorry, I only just realized... Only fair, right?" Terry said with a pleasant smile.

Peepers' mind finally caught up with what was happening just as Terry put his mouth on Peepers' member, maintaining eye contact all the while. The sudden sensation of wet, warm, _mouth_ was too much for Peepers to take in, and he yelped, barely managing to keep the volume down.

"Nnn..!!" Peepers couldn't keep his voice in. He groaned, feeling the tension in his gut get tighter, quickly speeding him to the edge.

Terry barely had started up a rhythm before Peepers was patting the bed next to him in a panic.

"T-Terry," he sputtered, "Terry, I'm gonna—"

Terry looked back up at Peepers for just a moment before pulling off with a loud 'pop!' and switching back to his hand. Peepers came a fraction of a second later, gasping for air and holding onto the bed for dear life as each wave of his climax rocked through him. Terry slowed gradually as Peepers came down from the height of it, riding it out with him before finally coming to a stop.

After a beat, he could feel Terry's hand disappear and Peepers hazily opened his eye to see him sitting back up and reaching for the box of tissues on the nightstand. He pulled a few out and handed them to Peepers, his face rueful.

"Sorry. I probably shoulda done that sooner."

Peepers wasn't sure if he meant the tissues or the blowjob.

He looked down at himself to see that, sigh, yes, there was a bit of a mess left on his stomach. Some part of him acknowledged that it was strange that this didn't bother him much. He lazily used the tissues to wipe most of it off before hopping off the bed and slipping his pants back on.

Eugh. It was very slight, but he could feel his underwear was a bit damp in the front. Gross.

Terry watched Peepers curiously from the bed as he went into the bathroom, grabbed a couple moist towelettes, and came back out, tossing one to Terry.

"Here. You got some on you too," Peepers said, plopping back down on the bed and wiping himself off.

"Oh." Terry looked down at his belly and cleaned himself off as well. "Thanks. Also, hey, so, I've been meaning to ask," he balled up the wipe and tossed it aside, " _do_ you want me to swallow when you come?"

If Peepers had had coffee in his mouth he would have done a spit-take. Lacking that, his whole body tensed and his mind halted as Terry continued without notice.

"Because like, I know that one time I _did_ swallow was sort of an accident, but um, just FYI I guess? I'd be fine with it if that's what you wanted. I just haven't been doing it because I wasn't sure if you _did_ want it, is all."

Peepers tried to swallow down the lump that had formed in his throat. He fidgeted with the towelette in his hand, precisely folding it up until it was too thick to bend.

So it wasn't like Peepers had never thought of this before. He had thought about it on at least a few occasions: Terry swallowing down his cum, maybe getting it on his mouth, wiping it off with the back of his hand, licking it off, um. Etcetera. Terry hadn't been doing anything like that these past few weeks though, so Peepers had chalked it up to aversion. Which, _obviously_ Peepers understood; it was unseemly, gross, undignified. Why would anyone actually _want_ that in their mouth. It was the kind of thing Peepers was sure would only be pleasurable in theory.

But.

If Terry was _willing..._

“Sooo, do you want me to?” Terry asked again, making Peepers jump. He had his pants back on and was sitting next to Peepers, swinging his legs slightly and his hands on the edge of the bed. “I mean, I guess you don't have to answer right now if you don't want to. And also it doesn't have to be like, a rule… You know, you could just let me know when, or if, or—well, _what_ you want me to—”

“You can do what you want!” Peepers said, suddenly standing, stopping Terry before he could really get his ramble going.

That seemed like the right answer. It was at least the simplest, for now.

“Oh, um.” Terry watched Peepers walk to the other side of the bed to smooth out his sheets and anxiously adjust the tissue box on his nightstand. “Right, but…I mean, what do _you_ want? Like I said, I’m fine either way. I’m just asking if you have a preference.”

Peepers re-fluffed his pillows vigorously.

“Nope!” he said, lying.

“Alright,” Terry said, shrugging his shirt back on and hopping off the bed to grab his helmet.

So maybe that wasn't exactly what Peepers actually wanted. But Terry was _always_ reiterating (to the point of annoyance) that he could change his mind about things or feel differently about stuff in different contexts so. If that meant he could keep his pride _and_ have Terry’s mouth on him while he came, Peepers would take it.

It crossed Peepers mind that Terry was aware of Peepers’ uncertainty in all this, though. Not even just the—erm—swallowing thing, but everything else as well; the anxiety, the lying… but he banished the thought, reminding himself that Terry was a watchdog, and watchdogs are _never_ that observant. Still though, he needed to maintain his authority here. He didn't want to appear weak or unleader-like.

Peepers put his shirt and helmet back on and began gathering the tissues and towelettes that were scattered around. Terry noticed and picked up a couple near him as well.

“Where's your trash can?” Terry searched around the room for a moment before Peepers took the remaining garbage from him and dumped it in the wastebasket in the far corner of his room.

“You can go now,” Peepers said, dusting off his hands over the trash and facing away from Terry.

That was good, Peepers thought. Shows him who's boss.

There was a stretch of silence and no sound of movement behind him. Peepers heart picked up in anxiety but he stayed resolute where he was, facing away towards the wall, busying himself with imaginary dust on his uniform.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Peepers turned towards him before he could stop himself. Terry was standing by the bed, hands in pockets and a horrible look of concern on his face.

“What? No,” Peepers said.

Terry looked back at him, tilting his head with that same concern still on his face, as if prodding for more of an answer.

“I'm just saying we’re done and you can go,” he continued, still a little confused. “Make sure to come on time next week,” he added.

Terry considered him for a moment before finally seeming to believe him and relaxing a little. He put his boots back on, shoved his hands a bit deeper into his pockets, and looked towards the door.

“Right! Okay. Just making sure.”

He checked the time before he left, looking lost in thought for a moment, probably considering everyone's shifts and the route he'd have to take to not be seen. After a moment he nodded to himself and looked at the door, then at the keypad next to it.

“Um, wait how do I…”

“Slide your finger over the bottom of the pad.”

He did so. “Oh! Cool.”

He turned and waved as he left. “See ya next time then, I guess! Text me whenever.”

And then Peepers was alone. He took a deep breath and looked around the room to make sure he didn’t miss any stray garbage.

That went... _well_.

He had to cover his butt about all the Lord Hater stuff, he got way too nervous a several times, came a bit fast, and things were still kinda awkward, but all things considered, things went...well.

He settled into bed as his mind carefully replayed the tortuous teasing Terry had inflicted. He still had trouble believing that had been intentional. That sort of sexual...prowess? It was strange to imagine someone like Terry having the experience that would lend itself to using techniques like that. But, then again, Peepers had no idea how much experience Terry actually had. More than Peepers, obviously. Grop, he really hoped that that particular fact wasn’t _too_ obvious. Especially not with that blowjob he attempted tonight. Terry _said_ it was good, and, well, it sure felt good to give, but he had no real way of knowing if he seemed _experienced_ or not.

All this was almost too embarrassing to contemplate. And boy had Peepers been _embarrassing_. He rubbed his face and grimaced as his mind echoed his pathetic whining over and over again, hammering it into him just how utterly un-commander-like he had been.

Peepers tried to console himself with the fact that it could have been worse. This whole night could have been worse, actually. Disastrous, even! It’s really a miracle that—

Peepers’ communicator—the one he has as a direct line to Lord Hater—buzzed loudly in his pocket.

His blood ran cold and his stomach sunk through the floor in immediate, horrifying fear.

He picked up.

“Y-y-yes, sir?”

“COME TO THE THRONE ROOM!” Lord Hater’s voice boomed through the tiny speaker, “I have something I need to _discuss_ with you.”


	4. The Rough Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang! This chapter ended up way longer than expected! Because of that, and also because school started back up, it took a little longer than usual to get this chapter done. Sorry about that! Not sure when the next one will be up, but you can always try our tumblrs for updates (aferretlee and sincerelydeerly) or send an ask our way. We're happy to answer whatever questions you may have. And as always, thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!! :)
> 
> -Hannah
> 
> hey yall! i didn't write much of this chapter, but i did draw a couple bits and pieces of fanart, which i'll post soon on my tumblr, so keep an eye out! just gotta clean it up and make it Presentable, you know, basic stuff hahah  
> thank you so much to all of our readers! every comment and kudo means the absolute world to us!! you all have been so great, and we're so grateful!!! hope you like the chapter!
> 
> -case <3

The skullship was quiet. It usually was, during this time. It was into the early morning hours, and at this point even the cleaning staff were sleeping soundly in their cubbies, having finished their work for the evening. The only ones who were up at this hour were the late shifters–security, navigation, and medical.

Terry was technically security. Though he never quite felt like it.

Being "security" consisted mostly of him, standing around, or him, in a company, marching around the ship at night. Nothing interesting ever happened, but he didn't mind. When he could, he'd chat with his friends (of whom he had many, and he would almost always have someone to talk to no matter who he ended up with), and when he was standing guard alone somewhere he'd usually just pull out his headphones and listen to music. Technically that was against the rules...but well, around the Skullship, lots of watchdogs would bend the rules and get away with it just fine. It was sort of common practice. But he didn't worry too much about it, it was the only rule he ever really broke and it was a pretty small one.

Tonight he had been assigned with a company and had managed to get into rank and file between a couple of his good friends, Rick and Douglas. Once they all got into formation and set off, no one had to pay much attention. There was a set route; the watchdogs in the front just had to make sure they followed it, and everyone else just had to follow behind and stay in step. They were really just around in case of intruders, which was a rare occurrence. Terry had never encountered any himself, but he had heard a couple stories from others. It was just that the ship was so large that even if someone did manage to get on, the chance of Terry ever catching a glimpse of them was unlikely.

Once his company had all marched out of earshot from their supervisor, light chatter broke out among many of them, including Terry's friends.

"So, how'd it go?" Rick asked him, sounding like he had been dying to ask for a while now.

"Huh? Oh, um.”

Terry had forgotten that he mentioned to his friends that he was going to meet up with his booty call on Sunday, and well, Sunday had come and gone and it was early Monday morning now. So they were expecting details. He didn't mind sharing, it just...always made him a bit nervous with all his friends so desperately curious about the whole thing.

"It went well!" he said as he put his hands in his pockets.

Douglas nudged him. "C'mon man, is that all? Wasn't this another unscheduled one?"

Terry rubbed at his neck. "Haha, yeah it was."

"And that's all you have to say about it??” Rick asked, incredulous.

Terry laughed. “What exactly do you wanna know, guys? You want all the juicy details?” Terry waggled his fingers.

“Well–” Rick began.

“Listen,” Douglas said, not letting Rick continue. “We’re not asking you tell us what positions you guys used or anything, we’re just curious! About, you know, any…developments!”

“Developments?” Terry had a feeling he knew where this was going.

“I mean, c’mon dude,” Douglas said, “I know you said this was like, only about the sex, but don't you think it might mean something that he keeps asking to see you so much?"

Terry laughed and shook his head. His friends' hearts were in the right place, but they also were very...bored most of the time. They would eat up even the littlest bit of gossip, so when Terry had told them about a guy who he had started hooking up with, but was under the explicit instruction to never give even the smallest hint about who he was? It was almost all they ever talked about. Because of that, they started to look for things that weren't exactly there.

For their sake, Terry smiled and shrugged. “Who knows, you guys. He's a tough one to read. I doubt it, though.”

"Do you...want it to mean something?" Rick asked.

Terry almost never saw reason to lie or obfuscate the truth, unless it was to protect someone, so when asked about his feelings, he'd always try give an honest answer.

"I mean... I don't know. I guess I'd be okay with that...but I don't really know him well enough to say? I'm fine with things the way they are. I mean, I'd also be fine with it if it did mean something but, listen guys, I really, really doubt it does. This guy...I don't really think he's interested in anything like romance."

"Well, why not!" Terry saw the watchdog in front of him, Louis, turn around and walk backwards as he joined in on their conversation. "You're an awesome guy, Terry! Heck, I've only known you for a few weeks since my transfer and even I know any guy would be lucky to have you!" Rick, Douglas, and a few others around them all nodded and murmured in agreement.

"Aw...thanks Louis," Terry said, genuinely touched.

"Who is this guy anyway?" a watchdog Terry didn't know the name of chimed in from behind them.

"He's not allowed to say," Rick said.

"Yeah, whoever it is wants privacy or something," Douglas added.

"Which,” Rick said, wagging his finger, “makes me think it's one of those guys from accounting, they can be kinda shy."

Rick had been trying this guess out almost every time the subject came up; it was his current favorite theory.

"Guys, come on..." Terry pleaded.

"Yeah, I know, I know, we gotta respect his wishes." Rick sighed theatrically. "I'm just so curious, man! I mean seriously! It's not every day someone hooks up with a stranger, that stranger sets up a weekly schedule specifically for banging, then gets told by that stranger that they have to keep their identity a secret! Like...when does that happen?? It's like something out a movie or something."

"Yeah dude, seriously, you're living the dream! Or at least some iteration of the dream." Douglas said. "Some really weird and complicated, but also totally sweet iteration of the dream."

"It is pretty nice," Terry said. He watched his feet as he moved in time with the others, smiling softly to himself.

Plus, he didn't say, Peepers was a pretty interesting guy. Terry hadn't really known anything about him other than what he had heard from other watchdogs or seen from afar during rallies and mass briefings, but being around him was definitely something else. He had met him in such a rushed, heated way...and then to continue interacting with him on such a regular basis, and so intimately? It was incredibly surreal.

But it was... nice. Nice enough that Terry was genuinely pretty intrigued by Peepers, in a positive way, and sort of wanted to get to know him better? Though, that was sorta hard to do when their interactions pretty much began and ended with sex.

"Aw come on, look at him, he totally has a crush," Rick cooed to some of the others as he gestured to Terry.

"No really, I don't, guys," Terry laughed, "I hardly know him, like I said."

"You don't have to know someone well to have a crush on them..." Louis said in a sort of sing-song, now facing forward but still obviously listening in.

Rick nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, and they always say that friends with benefits always end up with feelings, you know?"

"Who's they?" Douglas asked, leaning forward to look around Terry.

"Oh, you know, people. Advice columns. Stuff like that," Rick said with a shrug. "I know I've heard that sort of thing somewhere before."

Terry shook his head. "Guys, I wouldn't even say we’re friends, much less friends with _benefits_. I don't know if that'd even appl–”

“Wait, wait, hold the phone. What??” Douglas near-shouted. “You’ve been seeing him weekly for months–”

“More than weekly,” Rick added.

“Yeah, more than weekly, and you’re not even friends?!”

Terry shrugged. “I don’t know if this guy… _does_ friends.”

“What?!” Douglas said again.

“What does that even mean??” Rick said, gesturing with his hands out wide. “Now I’m even more curious about who this guy is.”

“Rick…” Terry said warningly.

“Yeah, yeah.” Rick waved him off.

"Well if you don’t even feel like you know him, why don’t you ask him out?” Douglas said. “How else can you get to know the guy if you don't hang out with him, right?"

"Yeah, he's right!" Rick chimed in. In front of him, Terry saw Louis nod in agreement.

"Well…” Terry started, “I _have_ –"

Before Terry could finish his sentence, he very suddenly lost all sense of balance as the entire ship was thrust forward without warning, with a force that sent himself and all the watchdogs around him tumbling backwards. Terry felt himself slam hard into the watchdog behind him as they hit a wall. Before they could make much sense of the situation or orient themselves, they were all flung again, this time left, then right, then suddenly Terry couldn't tell what direction they were falling in, he couldn't even tell which way was up.

And then, as quickly as it began, it stopped, and they were all piled on top of each other back where they were at the start. Scattered groans echoed in the halls as watchdogs slowly picked themselves up and dusted each other off.

"What was _that_?"

"Felt like one of the pilots was goofing off."

"Someone's gonna get in trooouuble..."

"I think my fibula's broken."

"What's a fibula?"

"I'm not sure, but it's definitely broken."

"Terry, you okay?"

Terry looked up to see Douglas extending a hand for him.

"Oh, yeah thanks." Terry took it and then checked himself for injury. Thankfully he was okay, though his butt definitely felt pretty bruised. As he looked around it seemed like no one got seriously hurt, everyone was mostly just annoyed and confused.

After a few minutes of light chatter about what happened, they all acknowledged that whatever it was, it wouldn’t be a good enough excuse if they were caught not working. Given that none of them wanted to get in trouble, they reorganized and set off back down the halls again, but not without complaints.

“Ugh. Anyway, what were you saying, Terry?” Rick finally asked after his own personal stream of dramatic complaints. “Have you asked him out already??”

This caught the attention of several of the others, who all paused in their complaining to turn expectantly at Terry.

"Oh, uh." Terry shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets, suddenly self conscious. "No, I haven't, I meant that I _have_ thought about it, for sure…”

Many of the watchdogs grumbled and turned back to their conversations, no longer interested.

“You should do it!” Douglas said, play-punching Terry’s arm. “Best way to get to know someone right?”

“Heh, yeah I guess!”

Rick put a hand on Terry’s shoulder and spoke with the utmost of gravity. “Just make sure to let us know how it goes, okay? I don’t wanna be left outta this.”

“Yeah, sure thing, Rick,” Terry said, closing his eye in laughter.

He didn't hear laughter in response though, and when Terry opened his eye, he looked down to see that his feet... weren't touching the ground? He quickly looked around to see that the rest of the watchdogs around him were floating up off the ground as well, all as equally confused as he was.

"Haha!" a watchdog in the front yelled, "Someone switched off the gravity! WOO!" He then proceeded to fly past Terry and several of the other watchdogs, propelling himself off them as he passed.

After a moment, many of them started to laugh and mess around as well, spinning, flinging each other around, kicking off the walls. Even Terry messed around a bit, marveling at the way he could move around so weightlessly... until they all came tumbling back down, the gravity having been switched back on not ten seconds later.

"What the FLARP is going on?" One of them popped out from the bottom of the pile and yelled in a delight through the laughter of all the others.

"I don't know, but it seems like someone sure knows how to have fun," another replied.

"You think the ship’s malfunctioning? Maybe we can get a break if the ship's malfunctioning!"

"The food court _is_ right around the corner..."

"I'm sure it'd be fine if the ship's malfunctioning. The food court is _super_ safe!"

"What if we get in trouble, though?"

"If you guys wanna get your butts kicked by Lord Hater, or worse, Commander _Peepers_ ,” Rick said, “you be my guest. I'm gonna keep patrolling.” Several of the others nodded, including Terry.

"Yeah, I think I'm with Rick, I don't wanna get in trouble," Terry added. They all dusted themselves off, and got themselves back into rank and file.

"Well...I'm gonna go get a burger!"

“Yeah, me too, I’m starving!”

As a small group started heading off towards the food court, Douglas broke off to go with them, calling back, "Sorry guys, I'm like, super hungry. I'll meet up with you later?"

Terry and Rick both waved goodbye and Louis reached out a hand towards Douglas and the others, whispering, "A burger sounds so good right now..."

"C'mon, we better get going," Rick said, pulling Louis back into form. Louis slouched and marched glumly for the rest of the morning, his stomach gurgling on occasion.

The remainder of the watchdogs continued their march through the halls, a much smaller group than they were before. Louis seemed to grow more and more agitated by the minute, finally groaning and switching places with the watchdog next to Terry.

"Terry," he said, putting an urgent hand on his shoulder and cradling his stomach with the other, "I'm dying and I need a distraction, like, ASAP. You guys have been talking about this mystery guy of yours so much and I don't really know anything about him, so–so why don't you tell me about him?" He smiled weakly at Terry, pleading in his eye.

"Oh uh," Terry kinda laughed, wanting to help out his friend but not really sure where, or how, to start. "What do you wanna know?"

"Anything, man, what's he like?"

"Well..." Terry rubbed the back of his neck, considering the question for a moment. "He's really..." _Be careful with your words_ , Terry reminded himself, _you don't want anyone figuring anything out_.

"...Stressed," he finally said.

"Stressed? Why's he stressed?" Louis asked, squinting through his hunger pains, "Isn't sex supposed to be relaxing?"

"Yeah I mean, I think he wants this _because_ he's stressed. Like, this is to help him relax or something, maybe." It was a hunch, but it made the most sense. Peepers always seemed so...on edge. Of course he _was_ second in command to Lord Hater, meaning he was probably in charge of just about everything, including, from what Terry could tell, Lord Hater himself. He couldn't imagine what that must be like, but he knew it couldn't be easy. He couldn’t blame him for being stressed, really.

"I kinda worry about him, but I'm not really sure how to help," Terry said.

"Is bangin' not helping?" Rick asked.

"Well, yeah. Maybe. I'm not sure," Terry said. "I don't know. I kinda feel like there's always so much he's not saying. I don't wanna pry, though."

"You're too nice," Rick said, waving him off. Louis nodded in agreement. "If he's doing this to de-stress, maybe what he really needs is a good emotional jam session, ya know?"

Terry put his hands in his pockets. "I don't know... Maybe he doesn't want to share. Maybe he's doing all this to forget about all the stuff he's stressed about. I don't want him to feel obligated to talk about stuff he doesn't wanna talk about."

"Sometimes we just gotta let things out if we wanna feel better, even if we don’t want to," Louis offered.

"Yeah," Rick said, "plus, there's no better way to get closer to someone than to let them have a little cry on your shoulder..."

"Riiiick..." Terry loved the guy, but he was relentless.

Rick raised his hands in surrender. "I'm just sayin', it might help! You already said you're gonna ask him out, right? No harm in trying to do something nice for him too.”

“Oh hey, by the way,” he continued, “when you do take him out, you really oughta try this little place just outside the Zegma system, my sister works there and they have the _best_ crepes–" Rick was interrupted by a loud moan from Louis.

"Pleeeaase don't talk about food..." he wailed, clutching his stomach, "I can't take iiiitt..."

Before either of them could respond, the hallway very suddenly went dark.

Then, not a moment later, the room went bright with red. The red lights started flashing, illuminating them all as a robotic voice echoed down the halls.

"Beginning self destruct sequence.”

The watchdogs froze in their tracks, shrinking in on themselves.

“In 30, 29, 28…”

"What is that," Terry said flatly.

"Self destruct I didn't know we had a self destruct," Louis spoke in a rush, gripping tight onto Terry's arm.

"23, 22, 21..."

"It's probably just a drill, right?" someone said, their voice shaking.

"Yeah totally, totally just a drill!" said another.

"18, 17, 16..."

"What if it's not a drill."

“What is going onnnnn…”

"Are we anywhere close to the escape pods?"

"I don't think so, I think those are on the port side!!"

"Which side's that, left or right?"

"12, 11, 10..."

"It's not gonna be ANY side– guys I think we're all gonna die, I think this is it!"

"I don't wanna die, I didn't sign onto this army to die!"

"It’s an _army_ , David, you really didn’t consider that as possibility?!"

"No, I didn’t consider I’d get _killed_ on our own _ship_!!!"

"5, 4..."

Terry held tight onto his friends, hoping against everything this would all stop like everything else had been doing that night. It had to.

"3, 2..."

The watchdogs flinched, ready for the final number to strike...

...And then it didn't.

"Self destruct... deactivated."

They blinked. The red lights went out and were replaced with the normal lighting again, like nothing had happened.

"Have a nice day," the voice concluded.

A beat.

A huge, collective sigh of relief. And then laughter.

"I told you guys it was a drill!”

Louis, Rick, and Terry all piled together in a group hug, with a couple other joining in as well.

“I don’t know what’s been going on tonight but you can _bet_ I’m gonna be asking for an advance on my shore leave, ASAP,” Rick laughed, his eye wet with emotion.

“Make that two of us,” Louis said, weakly high-fiving him.

After a few minutes recovering from that near-death experience, they all realized they, once again, had better get back to work and finally, finally finish the wackiest shift they’ve ever had.

After a few more hours of the same old, same old, marching down empty hallways with little smatterings of conversations here and there, they were all dismissed. By this point, Terry was ravenous and very, very ready for breakfast, but before he could even suggest anything, Louis was running full speed in the direction of the food court, yelling back at them to hurry up before the pancakes were gone. They both looked at each other and laughed, then jogged together towards the food court.

When they got there, Louis was standing in the doorway, frozen.

“What’s goin’ on buddy, they already out…of…” but before Rick could ask his question, he saw what had frozen Louis in his tracks.

The entire food court was an absolute _mess_.

“What happened?” Rick asked aloud.

There were condiments, meats, liquids, plastic trays and cups, veggies, straws, pasta; anything and everything that was served on the ship was now covering the walls, floors, and the watchdogs in the room.

There weren’t too many watchdogs in the food court at the moment though, maybe a dozen or two, and as Terry looked around he saw that it was the same watchdogs that had left their company from earlier during their shift. Just as he realized this, he saw Douglas spot the three of them and rush over.

“Guys, you totally missed it!” he said, gesticulating wildly, “There was this huge food fight! And the ship almost got destroyed! You guys heard that self-destruct thing too, right?”

“Yeah!! We all thought we were gonna die!!” Rick said excitedly.

“What happened here, though??” Louis asked.

“Well, um okay, so, I was in line and everything to get my food, and everything was normal...but then I guess Wander showed up–ya know, the orange guy? Um, yeah, he showed up and I was busy ordering my food so I didn’t see him at first but then Commander Peepers showed up too and he was like, ‘Grab him!!’, and I was like ‘what's going on??’, but then we all tried to like, ya know, capture him, but then, I don’t know, a lot of stuff happened and somehow a food fight broke out?? I was totally lost in all the chaos, but oh man you guys, it was AWESOME! I got pelted with all these taquitos–”

“Wait, you said Commander Peepers was here?” Terry asked.

“And you guys didn’t get in trouble for being in the food court??” Rick added, astonished.

“Yeah man, like, he was here but he didn’t really seem like he cared about that? Anyway, I think he left, I haven’t seen him since the food fight. We’re all just here cleaning up so we don’t get in too much trouble later and maybe he just forgets he saw us in here, haha.”

“Dang man, I’m so jealous!” Rick said, shoving Douglas. Douglas laughed and wiped a bit of mustard off his face. “I haven’t been in a food fight since high school. You manage to get anybody good?”

As Douglas started to recount the details of the fight, Terry felt his pocket buzz.

He pulled his phone out and saw a new text message:

"Get over here."

Seven asterisks above the message told Terry all he needed to know. He swallowed. Peepers has never been quite so...curt with him in his texts, which Terry was not going to take as a good sign. This meant he had to get his butt over there as quickly as possible.

"Uh, guys I gotta go," he said, interrupting Douglas' story. "Sorry. You'll have to tell me all about it later, okay?"

"What? What's going on?" Louis asked.

"Ohhhh man don't tell me it's your mystery guy, Ter!!" Rick said in astonishment. "No way, no way, you guys _just_ saw each other!"

Terry laughed self consciously and nodded, shrugging as he backed up towards the exit. As he rounded the corner he heard them all talking over each other and yelling different things. “Dang, dude!”, "Have fun!", "Make sure to ask him out this time!", and an impressive wolf whistle. He listened to the laughter fade into the distance as he sped off in the direction of Peepers room.

It was about 5:15 am now, which meant that there were going to be a few guards stationed in the main hall near Peepers' room. He'd have to take a different way than usual. He figured he could come in from the other side. That would mean he'd have to take an elevator to a lower floor, get to the other side, then elevator back up in order to avoid being seen. It wasn't risky–the lower floor was mostly deserted–and it would only take a couple extra minutes. Perfect!

As he made his way through the ship, he had time to consider the situation. If he had to guess, Peepers...probably had a bad night. Terry had assumed he’d been sleeping this whole time, but if Douglas’ story was anything to go by, then that meant he had been probably been up all night, possibly dealing with Wander intruding on the ship or something. Which also probably had something to do with all the weird stuff that had happened during his shift.

And now Peepers was texting him, asking him to come over…

Usually he wouldn’t be that concerned, but Peepers had never asked for him to come back so soon after a hookup like this. And the hookup earlier had also been unscheduled, so that made it all the more strange. The ominous wording of his text message didn’t help clear things up either. Terry was a little nervous about what might be waiting for him when he got there.

But really...what was he worried about? He probably wasn’t in trouble or anything, he didn’t do anything wrong that he knew of. It was just… weird. And he was sort of worried about Peepers, to be honest. Also, he was sort of tired, and also really hungry.

He managed to make it there in under five minutes, just like he thought, and didn't see a single watchdog on his way. It actually felt pretty dang good to be able to put his knowledge of the ship to use for once.

Making sure to check the hallway beforehand, he approached the door, paused, and remembered that it was only a few hours ago that Peepers had told him how to open it. He chuckled to himself at the novelty of such a nice, high security door, and slid his finger over the sensorpad.

When it slid open, the first thing his eye caught sight of was broken ceramic. Some sort of figurine had shattered. As Terry's eye traveled across the floor he saw dozens of other things lying broken and scattered. Paper was crumpled and littering the floor by Peepers’ desk, and his desk chair was on its side. Peepers himself was standing by the desk, handfuls of paper gripped tightly in his hands. He whipped his head around and the fury that was etched on his face was replaced with surprise, which quickly slid back into fury as he rushed over to the door.

Terry could feel his heart beating out of his chest in anxiety as Peepers slid the door closed and locked it in a flurry.

"What took you so long," he hissed.

"S-sorry, I," Terry looked away and noticed Peepers bed, which was also a complete disaster. "I had to take a different way than usual. During this time of day there are guards that–"

"Nevermind. I don't care." He started picking up some of the crumpled papers from the ground and brought them to his desk, where he attempted flatten them back out on the edge.

"Did...did something happen?" Terry asked.

"What?" Peepers looked back at Terry, startled. Then he looked around at the mess of his room. "Oh." He exhaled briefly, frustrated, and went back to flattening out pages. "Yes, you could say that."

Terry looked back down at the shattered figurine at his feet. Worried someone might get hurt, he bent down and scooped up all the pieces he could find and brought them over to Peepers. Peepers was still busy and mumbling unintelligibly to himself, but when Terry deposited the pieces onto his desk, he stopped what was doing to look at the pieces. Several emotions seemed to flash across his face before he looked up at Terry, then away, twisting up the paper he had just managed to un-crease.

Terry considered Louis and Rick’s advice from earlier.

“There was all this weird stuff that happened while I was patrolling… The gravity went all weird and there was this self-destruct thing...um…”

Peepers squeezed his eye shut.

“I heard Wander got on the ship?” Terry tried.

Peepers slammed his hands down on the desk, making Terry jump.

“That little _furball_.”

Terry watched Peepers ball up the paper in his hands and pelt it into the small wastebasket by his desk, which he then kicked, knocking out dozens of balled up papers onto the floor. “It was him! It was all because of him!”

He went to his bed, sat down, gripped the sheets, looked around, spotted a pillow, and took it in his hands to strangle it.

“I may have underestimated him, but I am not making that mistake again. I am not going to let this beat me.” He squeezed the life out of the pillow, glaring daggers at it as he did.

“So…Wander set off the self-destruct?”

“Yes,” Peepers snapped. He glared at the pillow for a moment before seeming to realize something.

“Okay, well, no, but he might as _well_ have.”

Terry slowly started to ease his way towards the bed, sitting himself down a good few feet away from Peepers.

“What happened…?”

Peepers hands shook as he gripped the pillow tighter.

"What happened, what happened, Lord Hater doesn't care about what HAPPENED!!" He slammed the pillow down at his side, got up and started pacing the room. "I did what he couldn’t do, I captured him just like he asked, isn't that worth at least SOMETHING?!"

"You captured Wander?"

"Of course I did! Because he told me to, and I can do _anything_ I set my mind to!" Peepers took a hunched over pose, his hands on his hips as he dropped his voice to a lower, gravelly timbre. "Wander's a sly, cunning, and crafty GENIUS!"

Terry chuckled at Peepers' impression of Hater–that was an impression of Hater, he was pretty sure.

"Well, I managed get him despite that! He just...ugh he...he just managed to slip away! That stupid ZBORNACK!" He swung at the lamp on his nightstand, knocking it to the ground with a crash. "If it hadn't been for her I would have _had_ him!

"How she got on the ship, that's what I'd like to know!" He continued to pace, ignoring the new mess he just created. "We have an immense amount of security; I mean we have a photo-electric beam system, an electromagnetic field disturbance detector...we have a huge arsenal of motion detecting photon beam cannons for grop's sake, how did she get past THAT?! We had to pay extra for those! I really hope I'm not going to have to have a talk with that salesman." Peepers grumbled to himself for a moment, then whipped back around to face Terry again.

"And you," he said, glaring directly at Terry, pointing at him. Terry felt his blood run cold. "You watchdogs were absolutely useless to me. You couldn't do the one thing I asked, just grab him and that was all, but noooo, you all had to start a flarpin' FOOD FIGHT. Are you kidding me?! A food fight?!"

"Oh...yeah, I heard about that," Terry said quietly.

"Oh, oh of _course_ you've heard about it," Peepers wailed, holding his face in his hands. "I'm sure _everyone’s_ heard about it by now."

Terry stood up and took a step closer to him, suppressing the urge to rub his back. “That’s all I really know, though… that and that Wander somehow snuck onto the ship, I guess?”

“Oh,” Peepers laughed bitterly, “No, he didn't sneak on. I brought him on.”

Terry tilted his head in confusion as Peepers continued, resuming his pacing.

“I knew enough about him that I figured if he was as much of a curious goody-two-shoes as I thought he was, he wouldn't even fight capture. And I was right! He walked right in all by himself! It was a brilliant plan and it _did_ work, I just–” Peepers balled his fists, pressed them against his head, and groaned.

“When I captured him I was right on top of him, I had him, I did!” Peepers was now pacing so fast that he was halfway to a run. “Then he...he somehow managed to slip past me while I was RIGHT on top of him, and when I finally find him again he just…shakes my hand, ugh, and–and runs off again!” Peepers threw his arms up in frustration, becoming more and more agitated as he recounted the events.

“I don’t know how, but I–I...I lose him, and as soon as I do he gets a hold of the ship’s controls!!” Peepers grabbed his head and growled. “And he got me a speeding ticket?! Some idiot do-gooder blasted our ship so fast I got a FLARPIN’ SPEEDING TICKET?!” Peepers kicked the already toppled wastebasket.

So that might explain why him and the others got tossed around so suddenly. Terry was about to open his mouth to say so but Peepers barrelled on.

“Then, he almost releases Hater’s collection of dangerous species, which I _told_ him was a bad idea, but does he listen to me? Noooo, nobody listens to PEEPERS. I managed to keep them enclosed but then that little orange FREAK turns off the gravity and the cages just flew right off! Then, of course, he turns the gravity back on, and those wild creatures are loose. I barely managed to escape with my life!!”

“When I find that mangy furball again, he’s having the time of his life messing with one of the consoles, and of course it happened to be one that had access to most of our booby traps on it. I manage to dodge most of them but just as I’m about to get him, he somehow manages to teleport me into _space_.”

“Whoa,” Terry said softly and sat down, finding himself on the edge of his seat, sucked into the story.

“ _Yeah_. He teleported me back because I guess he crosses the line at _murder_. But guess where he teleports me?” Peepers didn’t wait for an answer. “Back into the room with the animals!” he shouted. Terry cringed in empathy.

“I get out of there, AGAIN, and then–then he finds the food court, and NOT A SINGLE WATCHDOG–useless, sorry excuse for an army–tries to grab him. And then the little freak tries to start a FOOD FIGHT and they all just...go along with it!!!”

Okay, so far this night sounded way worse for Peepers than what Terry experienced. He had had fun with the gravity and he had thought the food fight actually sounded sorta fun too but…when he heard about it from this perspective, it didn’t seem all that appealing anymore.

Peepers looked down at his uniform, brushing off something Terry couldn’t see.

“My uniform was filthy,” he said, disgusted. “But none of these things can compare to…” He took his face in his hands, groaning loudly.

“Wander found Lord Hater’s bedroom. And of course...of _course_ , he got a hold of his stupid self-destruct remote. And then he ran off with it...” Peepers stopped, turning suddenly to glare at Terry, making him start. “I swear to grop, the look on his face… He knew. He was purposefully tormenting me, he KNEW it!!”

“Anyway…it got activated, obviously, and Lord Hater wouldn’t say the password until the very last terrifying second…” Peepers balled his fists tightly, coming to a slow halt, his back to Terry.

“And he got away,” Peepers spat.

There were a few beats of silence before Terry spoke.

“You mentioned that the, uh, zbornak was here as well?”

“Yes. That brute came out of nowhere and suckerpunched me.”

“Woah, wait, you got punched?”

Peepers glared at Terry briefly over his shoulder before looking away, maybe a little embarrassed, Terry couldn't quite tell.

“She caught me off guard,” he grumbled, then shook his head. “I had him, I HAD him in a cell, locked away, ready to be taken to Lord Hater when she…”

Terry watched Peepers closely as he rubbed the side of his eye.

“Are you hurt?”

Peepers glanced over at him and sighed, his shoulders sagging as he dropped his hands and walked over to the bed, sitting himself about a foot away from Terry.

“I’m fine,” he sighed, taking off his helmet and carefully setting it down next to him. It seemed like his energy level had finally dropped several notches.

“Are you sure…? I mean if you got punched by a zbornak, not to mention all the other stuff that happened to you...I mean…I think you’re lucky to even be alive.”

Peepers laughed bitterly. “I don’t feel lucky.”

Terry felt his shoulders sag with the weight of Peepers’ misery, like he was taking it all on himself. And even then, he knew it wouldn't nearly as bad as whatever Peepers was going through...

“I don’t blame you,” he said quietly. It took a conscious effort on Terry’s part to not put his hand on Peepers’ shoulder as a comforting gesture. He knew Peepers probably wouldn’t respond well to that. “Everything you told me sounds like a nightmare.”

Peepers was still for a moment, blinking a few times, like he was surprised at something. He glanced at Terry, briefly.

“It was,” he said, then grumbled “The worst part was cleaning Lord Hater’s bedroom.”

“Wait, why? Did Wander make a mess of it?”

Peepers faced away from him, outlining little circles on his helmet. “I…popped his water bed on accident. It was my…” He gripped the edge of the bed.

“After Wander escaped, he lectured me for ages, saying what a…” He breathed. “It doesn't...I...”

Terry waited quietly, his empathy kicking into overdrive as he watched Peepers struggle for words. He had never opened up like this to him before. He had seen him angry or annoyed sure, but...this sort of seemed like there was more to it than he knew.

Terry watched Peepers press his fingers hard into the metal of his helmet.

“Since I popped the bed, he made me clean up the mess and tape it all back together. He…he ‘officially reprimanded’ me,” he said, sounding betrayed. There was a waver in his voice that broke Terry’s heart. He could feel a million different questions bubbling up inside him, trying to understand the significance behind it.

“Jeez…I’m sorry, Peepers,” Terry said, not voicing any of them. “I mean–and I’m sorry if it’s like, not my place or anything, but that...that really doesn’t sound fair.”

Peepers looked at him with this unreadable expression for a moment... before turning away, bitterness slipping back onto his face.

Terry shifted his weight so he was facing Peepers more. “I mean, seriously, I’ve never seen it myself since I’m not a soldier, but I know I’ve heard stories of Lord Hater chasing after Wander all the time and not managing to catch him. I don’t know if it really makes sense to punish you for something that even he can’t do… And I understand getting upset that your bed got messed up but…jeez.” Terry rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, it just really seems harsh to me. I’m sorry, Peepers.”

Peepers squinted, seemingly trying to work something out in his head for a moment before giving up, shaking his head and sighing.

“Listen, I-I asked you here for a reason.”

“Oh!” Terry exclaimed softly, nearly forgetting himself, “Right. Right, sorry.”

Terry got down on his knees in front of Peepers and situated himself between his legs, his hands resting high on Peepers' thighs. A small gasp had him looking up to see Peepers' face going a little pink and his shoulders tensed in surprise.

Terry realized that might've been a little fast, and gave him a reassuring smile as he rubbed his hands over muscle of his thighs, attempting the best he could to ease some of the tension out.

"Hey," Terry murmured, keeping his tone as soothing as possible. Peepers’ eye snapped to his, still incredibly on edge. "Try to relax."

Peepers looked annoyed at first, but then sighed and seemed to try to take Terry's advice. He closed his eye and took a deep breath. His shoulders were still high and tense, as was the rest of his body, but his closed eye at least looked a bit more serene.

Terry marveled for a second at how different Peepers could look when he was relaxed. He found a sense of determination rising in him to make this as calming and relaxing as he possibly could. After such a rough night, Peepers deserved to unwind a bit, and he wanted to help with that the best that he could.

Terry slowly ran his hands over his legs trying to will the rest of him to relax. It seemed to work, at least a little bit, as Terry could see Peepers' legs start to go a little slack. He slowly slid his hands down, over his calves, and onto his boots, removing them each with the utmost of delicacy. He heard Peepers exhale a slow and shaky breath. Terry set his boots aside and put his hands back on Peepers’ legs, keeping it slow and easy as he slid up closer to his crotch, trying to massage the muscle a little bit as he did so.

When Terry finally slid a thumb over Peepers' cock through the fabric, his shoulders tensed, and Terry tried his best to keep his movements there slow as well, easing his whole hand onto him deliberately but tenderly, still keeping his other hand moving in soothing circles on Peepers' leg.

Peepers tried breathing deeply again as Terry touched him. This time he saw his shoulders visibly lower a bit as he exhaled. There was also a definite waver to his breath that was, well, very hot. Terry couldn't help but smile as he felt Peepers start to get hard under his hand.

Feeling a little sleepy and self indulgent, he leaned forward a handful of inches to put his face on Peepers’ crotch, pressing in slightly as he rubbed his face against his cock through the fabric.

"Hahh!" Peepers' breathing hitched audibly, and out of the corner of his eye Terry thought he saw Peepers' hand lift as if to touch Terry's head, but then it settled to back down to grip the bed again.

The warmth had Terry's heart racing almost instantly. He opened his mouth, mouthing Peepers through the fabric. He couldn't get a good grip on him with his mouth like this, but that was fine, Terry knew how nice it felt to be in the receiving end of this. Nick, an ex of his, had loved giving blowjobs so much when they were together, he would sometimes get impatient and do this before Terry ever managed to get his pants off. After they ended things, Terry had then done it to a couple other guys he got with down the line, and turns out! The general consensus was A+, felt great. But uh, to an extent.

Peepers was a little hunched over now, his cock straining against his pants and Terry realized he was about at that point where it stops feeling good and just starts feeling frustrating. He pulled back and put his hand back to work as he talked.

“You wanna maybe lay down and take these off?” Terry suggested, patting Peepers’ pants. “Might be more comfortable.”

“Um,” Peepers looked at him, hazy-eyed and pink, then blinked a couple of times, readjusting himself. “Yeah.”

Terry took off his own boots as Peepers slid himself back to the head of the bed and leaned against the headboard, which… didn’t look super comfortable.

“Hm. Here, lemme…” Terry got up and started re-adjusting the few pillows behind Peepers so they supported his weight better and cushioned his back and head. Peepers watched him, looking a little taken aback.

“That should help.” Terry said, seating himself on the bed.

Peepers shook his head ever so slightly, closed his eye, shimmied a little deeper into the pillows, and took another deep breath. His cock was still bulging under his pants but the rest of him was significantly relaxed, his palms turned up and open.

Terry noticed he wasn't taking his pants off so he crept closer, sliding a hand up Peepers leg as he did so. Peepers’ eye fluttered open.

“You want…me to take ‘em off?” Terry asked with a smile, his fingers on the hem.

“Oh, um. No, no, I've got it.” Peepers slid his pants and underwear off and over the side of the bed.

This relaxation thing...seemed to be working so far. At the very least Peepers seemed a bit calmer than usual, not quite as biting and sarcastic as he would normally be in these situations.

Terry bit his lip as he removed his gloves and took Peepers’ cock in his hands, lowering himself onto his stomach as he watched Peepers’ expression. He seemed to tremble for a moment, watching Terry’s movements, before closing his eye and exhaling a slow, shaky breath.

Terry stroked him slowly, not needing to wet his hand due to sweat–both his own and Peepers’. (Gross? Maybe. Effective and maybe even sorta hot? Absolutely, or at the very least, yes, literally.)

With Peepers’ eye closed, Terry was able to watch his face unabashedly for a little while as he ghosted breaths on his cock, rubbing his face directly on it, now that he could. Peepers swallowed loudly but otherwise managed to keep his muscles mostly relaxed.

Terry slid his face against it, up to the head, where he then finally put his mouth over the tip. Terry felt Peepers hips jerk slightly and saw his hand grip the blanket under them. He swirled his tongue, taking in only a bit of him before he came back up, going down just a few slow times before looking back up at him again.

Peepers was very flushed, and his chest was lifting and falling a bit quicker than usual. Terry enjoyed the view as he gently kissed the tip and slid his lips down, tightly this time, keeping a suction on him as he took all of him in. He watched as Peepers inhaled as he did this, his head pressing back into the pillows.

Terry reached a hand under him, found Peepers’ balls, and took them in his hand, fondling them as he sucked him off. Peepers’ eye snapped open in surprise for a moment before fluttering closed again with a sigh. Terry couldn't help but groan softly, his dick still in his mouth.

Terry…loved doing this sort of thing. And while the being-in-control aspect of it was fun, what really made it for Terry was the other person’s reactions. Being able to watch someone, feel them in your mouth as they got off...being able to _be_ the person that got them off. It was the best feeling.

Terry could tell his face was heating up now, and a significant hard on was definitely starting to make an appearance.

His other hand had enough free range that he was able to slip under Peepers’ shirt. He started at first, and Terry realized by the warmth of Peepers’ skin that his hand might be just a tad cold. He took his hand away and mumbled an apology, his mouth still full.

“Hhhhit’s fine,” Peepers breathed, his hands pressing into the bed.

Terry ran his thumb over his fingers for a few seconds to warm them up before trying again. This time he slid under just fine, Peepers simply breathing deeply under his hand as it moved across his skin.

Terry thought back on the first time he had touched Peepers’ skin under his shirt, and how surprised he had been that it was so soft. It wasn’t like there was any reason it _wouldn't_  be soft but...maybe it was something about him that gave off the impression that nothing about him could ever be soft. Nonetheless, it was, and warm too, and Terry was unable to hold back a sigh as he pressed his hand further up along his chest.

Peepers whined when he brushed his fingers over a nipple. He mindlessly teased at it, pinching and rolling it in his fingers while still trying to keep most of his focus on the dick in his mouth. He enjoyed feeling every time Peepers would twitch or squirm, though it admittedly it made it harder to concentrate.

He could hear Peepers’ breathing quicken, and looked up to see his eye screwed tightly shut, his whole body slowly starting to tense up. Terry picked up his pace in response, swallowing down some of the pre-cum and spit that was accumulating. He could feel Peepers was getting a bit close now, so he took him all in again and swallowed a few times. Peepers squeezed the sheets underneath him and moaned, arching his back slightly.

“I…” Peepers said, breathless. Terry looked up. Peepers didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t need to for Terry to know.

He started to pull himself off, but before he could, he felt Peepers’ hand on the back of his head, firm enough for Terry to understand he wanted him to stay, but gentle enough for him to be able take his mouth away if he really wanted to. The only thing Terry really had time to think was how incredibly hot it felt, and then within seconds Peepers was finishing in his mouth, gripping onto the back of his head and gasping out a small moan. Terry couldn’t help his own muffled moan as he felt the small amount of warm cum hit the back of his throat. When he swallowed and could practically feel it travel from his throat straight down to his dick.

After a moment, Peepers’ hand went slack and Terry slowly pulled himself off. His heart was beating hard and fast in his chest, and he had to make an effort to slow his breathing and calm himself down.

Peepers’ eye was closed when Terry looked up at him. His chest was still heaving, he was flushed, and there was a bit of a sheen to his skin, but his body looked as relaxed as could be. Terry smiled and slid to the edge of the bed and started to put his boots and gloves back on.

Once his breathing went back to normal, he felt the sudden, intense urge to stretch and yawn–so he did, standing up and extending his arms above his head as he yawned, big and satisfying.

“Are you leaving?”

Terry turned to face Peepers.

“Oh uh…yeah, I'm actually really hungry… I was just gonna go and grab some food before I head to bed.”

Peepers shifted, sitting up straighter, a little more his typical, uncomfortable self.

He seemed to struggle for words for a moment before finally saying, “You don't want me to…?”

Terry tilted his head, not understanding what he was getting at. Then, it clicked.

“Oh, no, no I'm good, I–”

“It is typically customary for it to be reciprocal, so–”

“No, really, I'm fine, I'm just like, really hungry right now more than anything, haha.” He paused the slightest amount, debating whether or not he should actually say this next joke, then went for it anyway. “I mean, swallowing your cum is nice and everything, but it's not exactly _filling_...”

He saw Peepers’ entire body cringe, and he seemed to make a point of looking away from Terry as he snapped, “Okay! Get out!”

“Sorry, sorry! Bad joke.” Terry held up his hands in mock defense and tried to laugh it off as he backed up towards the door. He really should've known better on that one.

Just as he was about to slide the door open though, he remembered something.

Right... He was going to to ask him out.

Alright! No big deal.

His stomach flip-flopped in the typical way it would whenever he took this sort of plunge with someone. It was bit nerve-wracking, but he could do it. He's done it before. He was good.

“Oh uh, hey!” He said, turning back towards Peepers, who was sitting on the side of the bed, busy adjusting his boots. “Before I go! Would you wanna maybe go out for coffee or something, sometime?”

Low-risk coffee date. Plunge: taken.

Terry braced himself.

Peepers, for a moment, almost seemed he had hadn't heard him. Then he slowly stopped fussing with his boots and sat up, staring blankly, eye half lidded, at the wall in front of him. After a moment, he ever so slowly turned his head, his eye finally meeting Terry's. Peepers’ glare bored straight through him. When he finally spoke, it was a cocktail of condescension, disgust, annoyance, and fatigue, all masterfully fit into one tiny syllable.

“No.”

Terry swallowed.

Nodded, smiled.

“Alright!” he said, shrugging. “That's fine. I'll see ya later, then!”

And with that he turned and slid the door open, taking his leave.

After the door shut behind him, Terry took a deep breath.

Honestly...that could have gone way worse. Terry had been prepared for a no. Though he had hoped against it since he genuinely was interested in getting to know him better. It was disappointing, but Terry understood! It would have been really risky, and there was no telling if Peepers was even interested in romance at all, let alone interested in dating anyone right now, let _alone_ a watchdog.

He was fine with that, but what Terry had been more concerned about was not so much Peepers’ yes or no answer, but the response itself. He had been sort of worried Peepers might explode at him. Tell him off for suggesting something so risky…or worse, laugh.

That one word answer, though...like it was obvious…? That _did_ sort of sting a little.

But of course, it wasn't like Peepers was obligated to give any more of a response than that! It's his right to refuse however he wants.

Still though, he did refuse, which meant Terry now had some bad news to deliver to his friends.

He sighed and made his way to the food court, unsure if his friends would still be there. In had been maybe an hour or so since he left and usually everyone was pretty tired after breakfast and would go straight to bed once they were done blearily shoving down their food. When he got there though, the food court was actually rather lively. Louis, Rick, Douglas, and even a few of his other friends, Rob, Manuel, and Jason, were all at a table together chatting it up and picking at the remnants of their breakfasts as early risers started to slowly pile into the food court.

Rick spotted Terry first.

“Look, there's lover-boy now!!” he hollered, gesturing for Terry to come sit between him and Douglas. “How'd it go, how’d it go?!”

“Hey guys,” Terry said as he approached. “Can I get some food first?”

“You can get food _after_ you tell us how it went,” Rick replied.

“Ricky, c’mon, he's probably starving. Let the man eat,” Douglas said.

“Please, I'm dying here, I gotta know! Just tell us how it went real quick and then you can get your breakfast,” Rick said.

Terry reluctantly sat down between them. “Alright, alright.”

His stomach gurgled in protest. It shouldn't be too long, there wasn't too much to tell.

“We met up at the usual spot. He vented to me about a bunch about stuff that had been stressing him out...which was new! I don't know if anything I said helped much, but he did sorta calm down after a while. Then I tried helping him relax in uh, other ways, haha...aaaand…” Terry breathed. “Then, before I left, I asked him out. Well–okay, I–I made this stupid joke and _then_ asked him out, which was probably a bad move, but.”

“Well?? Don't keep us on pins and needles, what'd he say??” Rick asked, nudging him.

Terry sighed.

“He said no.”

All the watchdogs around him gaped. Or well, their body language told Terry they were gaping, since he couldn't see their mouths.

“What?!” Rick nearly shrieked.

“He said no?” Louis asked in disbelief.

“He said no to _you_??” Rob added, pointing at Terry.

“Jeez man, I’m sorry…” Jason said. The others mumbled their agreement.

“It’s no big deal guys, really. If he doesn’t wanna go out, he doesn’t want to. I’ll live.”

“You poor thing…” Rick said, shaking his head. Then he stood up abruptly.

“Someone get this man some waffles!” he yelled, gesturing towards Terry. “He’s just been rejected!”

“I’ll get ‘em!” Louis chimed, getting up.

“Oh, thanks man, you don’t have to do that…” But before Terry could finish, Louis was out of sight and Rick had slung an arm around him.

“I don't get how anyone could say no to someone like you,” Rick said, shaking him a bit. “You're so nice and charming...it doesn't make any sense.”

“Not to mention good in bed…” Jason mumbled. The group laughed.

“Why don't you guys ask Terry out then?” Manuel prompted, teasingly.

“My heart belongs to the sea…” Rick said wistfully. “Er, uh, space. I kinda joined the army for it. I'm not super interested in dating right now. No offense, Terry.”

“None taken.”

“What about you, Jason?”

“Been there, done that,” Jason said.

“Okay, we all know you two hooked up a bunch but you never dated,” Rob said.

“No, we did!” Jason replied, indignant. “A couple times. It just never…” Jason kinda squinted at Terry and they shared a shrug and an expression of ambivalence.

“Huh. Well, that’s weird. I didn’t think anyone was impervious to Mr. Charming over here. Where exactly did he go wrong?” Manuel asked, doing a pretty good impression of Andy as he held up an imaginary microphone to Jason, eliciting a laugh from the group.

“I think the more important question,” Louis interjected as he came back and placed a tall stack of waffles in front of Terry, along with syrup and a glass of orange juice, “is… what _exactly_ was the joke you told that had your mystery guy so resistant to your charms, Terry?”

“Ha!” he laughed loudly once and rubbed at the back of his neck, incredibly self conscious. “Well, uh... I don’t know if that’s something I should repeat. Especially not at the table...”

“Oh my grop, it was that bad?” Louis said as the rest of the watchdogs all giggled and exclaimed.

“Well maybe not by your guys’ standards,” Terry said, cutting into his waffles and slathering them in syrup, “but I kinda said it without considering my audience, I think.” He took a big, satisfying bite. Grop, he forgot how good waffles tasted.

“You don’t think that’s what did it…?” Douglas hesitantly asked.

“Nah, I doubt it would have changed the outcome much.”

“Zreb, man, I’m sorry.” He put a hand on Terry’s shoulder. “It sucks getting rejected.”

“You been rejected before, Doug?” Jason asked.

“Eh, back in high school. Still though, I know it hurts.”

“I don’t know, guys, I really think I’m fine.” He took a sip of his orange juice.

“Come on, there's no way you're not at least a little sad about this,” Louis said.

“You've been doin’ stuff with this guy for such a long time now, I was totally expecting him to say yes! _I’m_ hurt by this,” Rick said. Some of the others nodded in agreement.

“Well...it's his right to say no,” Terry responded with his mouth full.

“Right, shmight,” Rick replied, “I bet this guy just doesn't know you well enough yet. You said he vented to you, right?”

Terry nodded.

“I would say that you're on the verge of friendship then, at the very least. Maybe you should try venting to _him_ sometime!”

“Uh, about what?”

“I mean, I don't know, what else? Your job.”

Terry imagined the look on his Peepers’ face–his _boss_ ’ face–if he were to complain about his job to him. He couldn't envision a scenario where that would end well.

“Iiii dunno if he's really the comforting type,” Terry said.

“Jeez,” Rick said, “What kind of type even is he then?! He doesn't ‘do’ friendships, he doesn't comfort… Why do you even wanna date this guy in the first place??”

“Well _you_ were the one who suggested it, man,” he said, teasingly poking Rick.

“Only because _you_ ,” Rick poked Terry back, “were all goo-goo eyed over the dude.”

“Goo-goo eyed?” Terry laughed. “Really?”

Rick laughed too. “Well…you seemed interested at least.”

“You did say you were already planning on asking him out before anyone even suggested anything,” Douglas said.

“Yeah, see!” Rick said. “You like him!”

“At least a little, come on,” Louis added.

Terry smiled and shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe. It's still too early to say.”

“What I’m saying is: Why?” Rick said. “I mean from what you've said about the dude, he seems…well, no offense? But like, not super likable.”

Terry thought on it for a moment as he finished the last of his breakfast.

“Maybe it's just curiosity… I dunno. I have a hunch.”

The watchdogs looked at him curiously.

“Like I said before, he always seems to be holding something back, so… I don't know.” Terry smiled fondly, remembering the times Peepers seemed to hesitate, blush, or change topics; those times when he’d seem less like an intimidating commander and more like normal, sorta nervous guy. “I think there's more to him.”

“Well, good luck with that,” Jason said.

“Thanks, but…” Terry said, “I think from this point onward I'm just gonna give him space and go back to normal.”

“Aw…” Rick cupped his face in his hand. “That's so boring, though…”

“Boring, maybe. Respectful? Yes.” Rob pointed at him. “You're a good guy, Terry.”

“Thanks.” Terry stretched, yawned, and gathered up his dishes. “I'm really tired now though guys, anyone else heading to bed?”

“I still feel so energized by all the wacky stuff that happened earlier, I don't know if I could sleep if I tried!” Rick said.

“You're gonna be tired tonight,” Louis said in sing-song, following Terry as he got up and headed over to the garbage/dish drop off thing at the end of their table.

Several of the others got up as well, stretching and admitting that they were also pretty tired now that they thought about it. Rick eventually conceded and joined the rest of them as they headed off towards the living quarters.

Each of them broke off from the group gradually as they passed each of their cubbies, saying their goodbyes and wishing each other a good “night’s” sleep. Terry's cubbie was about eight rows high so he had to climb up to get to it, which was always a bit of a pain, but he had gotten used to it. Just as he started making his way up though, he noticed Rob following behind him instead of continuing on with the others.

“Isn't your cubby at the end of the room?” Terry asked.

Rob wrung his hands awkwardly. “Uh well, actually, I asked Youssef if I could switch with him for the night…”

Youssef was usually in the cubby just to the left of Terry's.

Rob looked away, something obviously bothering him. Just as Terry was about to ask what was wrong he said, “Things aren't going well with Dennis.”

“Oh no…” Terry felt his heart sink and put a hand on Rob's arm, “What's going on...?”

“Well, I was hoping you could help me figure that out.” Rob laughed, but it sounded hollow.

“Yeah, of course, bud,” Terry said. “Let's get up and we can talk about it, okay?”

“Yeah,” Rob agreed, nodding.

Rob and Dennis had been together for at least a year by Terry's reckoning. He didn't know Dennis very well, but Rob had been a good friend of his for a while now. He was the kinda person Terry felt like he could talk to about anything. Terry resolved to do whatever he could for him, even though he wasn't sure what he _could_ do. People often went to him for advice about friendships and romance and he never really understood why. He was nowhere close to an expert.

Terry could feel the drowsiness start to kick in as he neared his cubby. He sighed inwardly. He could probably take a nap tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo if the timeline wasn't too clear, the episode "The Prisoner" started soon after chapter 3 ended. Hater was basically calling to lecture Peepers about Wander and tell him to capture him. There will be more canon-referential sections in this story, so be on the lookout for that. :)


	5. The Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Over the past month or so we've been receiving so much love from all of you!! We've even gotten some fanart! [Corndog-patrol](http://corndog-patrol.tumblr.com/post/157383887111/some-doodles-for-the-latest-chap-of) did some great doodles of chapter 4 (we practically screamed when we first saw them, SO GOOD!!), [annamuchia](http://annamuchia.tumblr.com/post/157453281235/on-second-second-thought-i-will-post-it-here) drew the boys playing [Girls Club](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ASwnEtMF3fo) the FMV (I'm almost mad we didn't think of this first), and [southernkittygal](http://southernkittygal.tumblr.com/post/158912466678/southernkittygal-angrily-its-just-a-really) drew some lovely fanart of Peepers, and then Terry, getting emotional over romance novels (soooo cute!!!). If y'all ever want us to see fanart or anything you've done relating to this fic, please don't hesitate to @ us on tumblr (aferretlee and sincerelydeerly). Commanterry has sorta become a bit of a ship name for Peepers and Terry (credit for the idea to sburbanentity on tumblr), so feel free to use that tag as well for whatever you want pertaining to the fic, we will most certainly be checking it! Case and I also use our own "peepers n terry" tag on our own blogs (though Case is much better about remembering to tag things than I am) so feel free to check that out as well, there's some fun stuff in there.
> 
> We've both been very busy with classes and life stuff, so finding time to work on this has been tough. But don't worry one bit!! I promise we are in this thing for the long haul. Thanks again! <3
> 
> -Hannah
> 
>  
> 
> i'm not sure if i've ever mentioned it before, but i try to post art on my [art blog](http://deerlydoodles.tumblr.com/%20) (which i also usually reblog to my main) but if you wanna check it out there's some terry and peepers stuff!  
> after this chapter, we can pretty safely say that we are finished laying down the ground floor for the fic, and from here it's gonna keep getting better and better... it's been great so far of course, but just you WAIT  
> thank you to everyone who has been supporting us and reading the fic, you all mean the world to us! <3 
> 
> \--case

It wasn't unusual for Lord Hater to be difficult to locate when Peepers needed him, but it was fairly unusual, if not completely unprecedented, for him to be in the gym, of all places. Peepers had been searching high and low for his boss for at least an hour now; he needed to brief him on this week's invasion plans. When he finally found him, he was in the back of the gym, leaning up against a wall with all the confidence and ego of a racer who just won first place in The Galactic Conjunction 6000, dressed in work-out clothes that Peepers didn’t even know he owned, and surrounded by watchdogs. They all seemed to be reacting to something he said, chattering in admiration.

Peepers made his way over to the crowd, trying to not bring any attention to himself as his did so. The watchdogs around him seemed unaware, too enraptured in their icon. He had to stand on tip-toe to get a good view over them.

"I mean obviously I have to work out everyday,” Lord Hater lied, continuing whatever he was saying before, “You don't get this from nothin', ya know.” He gestured to his flexing arm, which wasn't doing much visually, considering it was bone.

"Wait, get what?" a watchdog asked. His friend immediately jabbed him with an elbow. "Ow..."

"Excuse me? Did I hear someone DOUBTING my POWER?!" Hater took a step forward, tilting his chin up and looking down at the crowd, a small smile still playing on his lips. "You fools don't know what real power is. THIS...IS REAL POWER!"

He began crackling with electricity, lifting both his arms in a flex. Green energy surged between his hands, all around him, lifting him slightly off the ground and dimming the rest of the room. A low murmur of awe and fear spread through the crowd, then broke into light applause.

"What's even the workout regime for that?" one of them asked, amazed.

Hater dropped back down and rubbed his non-existent nails on his shirt, looking at them nonchalantly as he spoke. "Weeell most of it is just natural-born talent, but I do have to adhere to a very specific, very...difficult workout regime. Ya know, keep up the tone...or whatever."

"What is it??"

"Yeah, what do you do?"

"Tell us your secret!"

Lord Hater looked panicked for a second, looking from watchdog to watchdog as they spoke, but after a moment he seemed to relax back into a smug confidence.

"Well obviously I do at least like, a hundred push-ups and sit ups every, uh...hour. Then I work on my quads, my delts, my...plec...torials, my uh, fartoids and my smeltoids, my abs, and um. I do like a bunch of stuff on whatever this thing is?" He put a hand on a very complicated-looking workout device.

Peepers had...definitely never seen Lord Hater work out on that. Or on anything. Ever. He would have remembered that. He’d known him for a few years now, and at absolutely no point did he ever see him doing so much as a single push-up. Not like he needed to of course, he was immensely powerful on his own, and there was nothing in the villain’s handbook that said you have to be fit, only that you have to utilize what you have and make up for any weaknesses with compensation of some sort.

For instance, Peepers was, though he didn’t like to think about it, relatively small and weak, so as a child, he compensated by training his mind, making sure he was always the smartest in the room, then later by acquiring a physically imposing and very powerful boss and, more recently...by working out. At night. When no one else was around.

(It may or may not have been because he was sick of the zbornak constantly beating him to a pulp. He needed to be able to hold his own, grop darnit, it was getting embarrassing.)

Anyway, Lord Hater didn’t really need to prove himself to these watchdogs. He was obviously putting on a show for some reason though, and Peepers was curious to see what it was.

"Do you bench?" one watchdog asked.

Lord Hater laughed, nervously. "Um, OF COURSE I bench, what do you think this is, amateur hour?"

"How much??"

"Uh..." he looked wide-eyed at the watchdogs, seemingly not ready nor capable of understanding the question. He swallowed. "Um, all of it? Obviously?"

The watchdogs murmured and looked at each other.

"What does that mean...?" one whispered.

"Like, he uses all the weights at once?"

"Can you show us?" one watchdog asked, gesturing to a weight bench.

Lord Hater looked at the device and a wave of understanding washed over his face. He chuckled.

“Sure thing.”

Without moving from where he was, he leaned back casually against the wall behind him, crossed his arms, and extended a single finger towards the bench. Electricity came shooting out of his finger, past the watchdogs, and surrounded the bench and dumbbells in a green static. He lifted the whole thing off the ground, hovering it in the air with ease. The watchdogs looked on in amazement, and even Peepers himself was unable to suppress a feeling of reverence, despite—or perhaps by virtue of—the fact that this was technically cheating. The watchdogs applauded, exclaiming and cheering as he set it back down.

“That's so cool!”

“I wish I could do that!”

Lord Hater laughed, soaking in the praise. “Well, maybe someday…” He smirked at the watchdogs. “PSYCH! You'll never be as great as me, so don't even try.”

“Hate’s great, best villain!” one called out, then they all joined in the chant, pumping their fists in the air enthusiastically.

Well, this had about reached its culmination, Peepers thought, and it seemed as though the only real point to all this was to get praised by his henchmen, which was entirely unnecessary, and also a bit childish. But that was how he was. And as always, it was Peepers’ job to get him back on track.

“Sir?” he shouted over the watchdogs. They all stopped in their chanting immediately and turned to their commander, shrinking back and making a path for him. Hater blinked and looked down at him as he approached.

“Oh, hey Peepers. Miss the gunshow? I might have some extra tix if you want ‘em.” He smirked, waggling his fingers as tiny bolts of electricity bounced between them.

Peepers swallowed down whatever feeling it was that had immediately started to bubble up in his chest, not allowing it a chance to be named. He closed his eye and shook his head.

“I just need to brief you on some invasion plans, sir. If you'll come with me?” He gestured towards the exit.

Hater rolled his eyes with his whole body and sighed. “Right...okay.” He hunched over and a deep scowl replaced the emotion on his face. “Lead the way, Commander.”

It was strange how easily Lord Hater seemed to switch between his immature teenager-like attitude and his serious, intimidating dictator persona. It was like flipping a switch sometimes, just a switch that Peepers didn’t really have complete access to, nor understood the workings of. He knew Lord Hater did care about their success as villains (obviously), he knew more than anybody just how important it was to Hater that he truly became the greatest in the galaxy, not just another bully with a handful of planets to their name, but it was still baffling to Peepers how Hater could be so easily deterred by such simple things, like that orange menace, or a contest, or a trophy, or proving himself to his easily-impressed henchmen. All Peepers could really do when that switch was flipped for the worse was stick by him, support him, try his best to keep things on track, and save his screams of frustration for when he was alone.

They entered the main briefing room and Lord Hater took his seat on the throne Peepers had set up for him earlier in front of the console in the center of the room. He slumped down in it, crossed his legs, and leaned back, waiting for Peepers to begin. The green glow of the console illuminated Lord Hater’s face ever so slightly, brightening the green of his serious, sunken eyes.

Peepers cleared his throat and tapped his hands on the console.

There was a ripple, and with the rise of his hands, the empty space above the console was suddenly filled with dozens of windows of data. He waved a hand and dismissed them, then reached into the aqueous surface and pulled up a three dimensional map of the Cyron system, of which they were currently on the outskirts. As he spoke, he twisted and turned the map, zooming in and bringing up different data points and images.

“So, sir: I've been doing research on Cyron. Though there are a few densely inhabited planets, it is mostly uncultivated—er, mostly just, nature and forests and such. We should have a fairly easy time making our way through, so long as we start on Liltpox and work inward from there. We'll be hopping from planet to planet pretty quickly so we'll probably be able to get this whole system conquered within a couple days, so long as we don't encounter any road bumps on Lipthor or Denzon—those are the populous ones I mentioned. However, they are about to be eclipsed by their star from this angle here, giving us a small window of cover while we take the system. This will give us the element of surprise by the time we make our approach. When we do, we'll be heading to Denzon first, as it's of greater threat to us if we give the Denzonians time to react. You see, the Denzonians were once hailed as the greatest—”

"Peepers!” Hater slammed a fist down on the armrest of his throne. “I don't need a history lesson! All I need to know is exactly what I need to do to totally PWN these stupid little planets!"

“Right…” He was already significantly simplifying this information as it was. He sighed. “Well, basically, sir...this particular system won’t be much trouble at all with the way that I’ve planned it. We just need to make sure to get through these,” Peepers isolated the five agrestal planets and pointed at them, “as fast as possible.”

“So…these planets have people on them?” Lord Hater asked.

“Er...no, sir, that’s what I said earlier. They’re almost entirely populated by primitive flora and fauna, there’s no organized cultures or dominate species.”

“Peepers,” he brought a hand up to his forehead and sighed, rubbing at it and closing his eyes, “Why are we conquering planets that don’t have anyone on it to CONQUER?”

“Sir, I—”

“Is there even a point to all this? Why can’t we just go straight to the Denians or whatever?”

“Sir, I said why we have to do it this way, and I tried to explain—”

“Well, whatever you said didn’t make any sense! Why do you always have to make things so complicated? It’s simple, you just go to the planets,” Lord Hater stood up and awkwardly waved his arms in front of the hologram, dragging Denzon to the forefront and zooming in, “and conquer them! Wait...”

The information that had automatically popped up next to the image of the planet also displayed a live video feed, showing several of the inhabitants of the planet wandering it’s surface. Lord Hater stared at it for a moment before turning to Peepers.

“These guys are all old!” he said, waving his hand at the video. “You said they were dangerous!”

“Sir, they are dangerous. I was trying to tell you why before. They’re an ancient species, guardians of the entire Cyron system, and heavily revered throughout the galaxy for their skills in the tactical arts! If we just waltz right up to the planet, they’ll see us coming a mile away, assemble, and outmaneuver us. We wouldn’t stand a chance!”

“Well…if they’re so good, then why don’t we sneak up on them or something?”

It took every shred of willpower in Peepers’ body not to scream. He was hoping to get through the plan for this first system in just a few minutes, and now he was stuck clarifying and re-explaining minutia, again, like always, and this was almost certainly going to last hours, also like always.

Why was it always like this?? Why did it always take so long for Lord Hater to understand?? He could handle the actual invasions themselves just fine (for the most part), but when it came to actually sitting down and learning them it was like pulling teeth! It felt like he had tried everything! He used to deliver briefings orally but that proved to be a complete failure, and he had since been trying a multitude of different methods so as to better communicate his plans. He created these holographic diagrams specifically so that Lord Hater might have an easier time understanding the plans in a visual sense, he had tried more specific and detailed explanations, he had tried more simplistic and straightforward explanations—it didn’t seem to matter how he did it, it just, always, always managed to sail right over his head.

But he couldn’t blame it on Lord Hater. This was his part of the job. Peepers simply hadn’t found the right method yet, and that was on him. Until that point, he’d just have to keep pulling teeth.

“That was the plan all along, sir,” Peepers replied, attempting to maintain his composure.

“Well, you didn’t make that very clear…” he grumbled, tapping his fingers on the armrest. “So we’re done then, right?”

“No, sir, we still haven't gone over the other two systems that—”

“Cool!” he got up and stretched. “I'm super beat from working out so hard. Good briefing, Commander.”

“Sir, I…” Peepers started.

Well...he had been able to get at least a bit of information to him, even if it wasn't the whole plan. He could handle the details on his own, he supposed, and brief Lord Hater on the plans for the other systems once they were done with this one. It wasn’t optimal, but it was better than nothing. He sighed and resigned himself to giving up for the day.

“Oh yeah, Peepers, by the way,” Hater stopped in the doorway and turned back to him, “my Gamebox isn’t working for some reason so I'm gonna need you to come and fix it.”

“Your...Gamebox, sir?” Peepers could practically feel his soul leaving his body in preemptive exhaustion.

“Yeah like, the thing I use to play all my games?” he said, like it was obvious. “It's busted. C’mon.” He turned and left, gesturing for Peepers to follow.

Peepers sighed. Whatever was wrong with it probably wouldn't be too difficult a fix. It was just a game system after all. He should be able to get it done and still have time to finish the rest of the evening’s duties before bed. He followed his boss down the halls to the elevator.

The doors slid open and Lord Hater went in and leaned against the back wall with his elbows on the railing, not looking at anything in particular. Peepers followed behind and pressed the button for the floor labeled “H-8”. He stood beside him, hands folded in parade rest as the elevator ascended.

Lord Hater was still in his work out clothes—a red tracksuit and black shorts, complete with a neon green headband around his skull, pushing up his antennae so they stood straight up. Peepers looked at him, noting his bored posture and empty gaze, and couldn't help but sigh a small, soundless breath as his eye traced his boss' curved jawline. Peepers typically made a point of not admiring him too much—it was distracting and didn’t pertain to his duties—but occasionally he’d allow himself small moments like this, when they’re waiting or otherwise unoccupied and he could justify it as an innocent wandering eye.

But as his eye fell to where the hem of his shorts met the bottom of his femur, he could feel the woefully familiar inklings of shame start to crawl up his spine. He averted his gaze, focusing instead on the numbers above the door as they ticked closer and closer to Hater's private floor.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the elevator let out a gentle "ding" and the doors slid open. Hater meandered out, heading for his bedroom with Peepers following close behind. Door after door after door opened and locked behind them as they walked down the hall in silence, and Peepers could hear Hater occasionally grumbling to himself about something "dumb" and "stupid" that "takes too dang long".

The final door to his room slid open automatically as they neared it (Lord Hater couldn't be bothered to remember a passcode) and as they entered, Peepers was immediately hit with a barrage of odors, but mostly distinctly that of cheap, greasy cheese. Peepers put a hand to his face, peering around to try to find the source.

"I got so flarpin' mad at this video game, some stupid puzzle side quest with blocks and, GRAH!!" He flung his arms up before crossing them. "Stupid puzzle, stupid game," he grumbled, hunching over in a sulk.

As Peepers neared where the game console in question was, the cheese stench grew ominously stronger, and then he could make out what looked to be... _drippings_ of the stuff coming out of the disk drive. With a grimace, he reached out and pressed the eject button, and for grop knows what reason, when the drive slid out, an entire slice of pizza was squished in the game tray.

"Sir, you...you shoved a piece of pizza into your game console?"

"Peepers, it's a Gamebox, grop," Hater said, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, it's not working now, so that's why I need you to fix it."

Peepers’ shoulders sagged as he looked on at the greasy mess, already not looking forward to when he will have to thoroughly clean and santize his gloves. Just as he was about to get started, something in the corner of his eye got his attention. He turned to look back to see that Lord Hater was...undressing.

He whipped his head back around so quickly it made his vision swim, but he had still managed to get a good look of Lord Hater pulling his tank top up and over his head, with his shorts pooled at his ankles. He shook his head aggressively, but the image was burned into his retina as some sort of cruel punishment. Even the brief glance he managed to get of Lord Hater’s tracksuit lying in a crumpled heap next to the laundry basket felt too personal, too intimate.

Why was Lord Hater changing?! ...He was in workout clothes. _Obviously_ he wanted to get comfortable. But...why was he always so casual about this sort of thing?? Why did he do this while Peepers was in the _room_ , like he didn't care that Peepers could see him, probably didn't, probably didn't even _consider_ the fact that what he just saw was seared into him now, like he couldn't see anything else, even when he closed his eye. Especially when he closed his eye.

Grop, what was Peepers doing. He was a skeleton for grop’s sake. It was just bones. He knew what a skeleton looked like, it wasn't anything special or scandalous. Why does he get so worked up over it?? It was stupid! It was—

Peepers shook his head minutely, vigorously. Controlling the urge to look back.

It was stupid. He was over-dramatizing. Lord Hater didn't care, why should he? Peepers didn't care. (He couldn't care. Shouldn't care.)

He swallowed, his eye screwed shut, then opened the disk drive all the way, purposefully, pushing past his disgust as he dove into the cheesy mess he needed to extricate. Maybe he should focus on just how disgusting it all was in order to try blurring the permanent image in his mind of Hater, not even half undressed, nothing but bones for grop sake. They aren’t even attractive bones! Just bones. There’s nothing attractive about bones.

But Peepers knew it wasn’t the bones itself that felt so compromising. It’s just the fact that it’s...Hater. Lord Hater, Duke of Dread, Monarch of Mayhem, Emperor of Evil, Number One Superstar, the source of most of his headaches, but most importantly, his boss.

So much of Hater’s being has continuously plagued Peepers’ life for years. His incredibly tall stature, broad figure, strong jawline—and those green eyes, always so expressive and lively and piercing, always piercing right through Peepers’ being. Of course Peepers was attracted to Hater’s incredible, boundless power—that much makes sense. Clearly the Watchdogs were drawn to Hater not just for job opportunities, but also because he simply was so great. Great, mighty, not to be underestimated, deserving of adoration, reverence. Peepers himself aspired to be that great, though he knew in many ways it wouldn't be possible. Not for lack of trying, but…you can't just _achieve_ a body like that.

Peepers had managed to pry off most of the cheesy mess. The stench of it as he picked it all up was so overwhelming that he nearly retched. He braced himself to once again face Hater as he stood up to throw the half rotted pizza bits away.

What he saw was Hater dressed in his pajamas, his work out clothes still discarded on the floor in a messy pile, looking at his laptop with a look of annoyed intensity on his face.

“What are you up to, sir?” Peepers asked, trying to keep himself from gagging over the smell he was being forced to endure.

“Trying to figure out how to beat that dumb puzzle. The old guy in the game said I needed to ‘study the situation’ or something,” he said, squinting at the screen, “but I did that? And I still can’t get through! Anyway, I was looking up how to beat it because it’s dumb and obviously needs some kind of cheat or something.”

“Do you need my help, sir?” he asked as he dumped the disgusting mess in the trash. He lived to serve, after all.

“No, I got—” He looked at Peepers and tilted his head in thought. “Well...you _are_ a total nerd...so if anyone’s gonna be able to get past it, it’s you, I guess. Plus you know computer-y stuff so you could probably hack it, or something. Sooo... yeah. Okay.” He closed his laptop and set it aside. “You done fixing it yet?”

Peepers looked the disk drive over. There wasn’t any visible cheese left but the amount of grease that had gotten inside the console was still likely to render the system inoperable. He tested the power button and the indicator light remained unlit. Peepers turned to back to his boss and sighed.

“Sir, I’m sorry but...I think your Gamebox is...permanently broken.”

“WHAT?!” He threw his head back dramatically. “UGGHHH!”

“I’m sorry, sir, I think the pizza oozed so much grease into the console that...what is that.”

Lord Hater had reached under his bed and pulled out what appeared to be another, second, pristine, Gamebox.

“You...you have...a second Gamebox?”

“...Yeah?” He tossed it over to Peepers, who managed to catch it just before it hit the ground.

“Why didn’t…” Peepers looked at the console in his hands, now getting a coating of grease from all the residue left on his gloves. “Why didn’t you just use this one instead?!”

“Uh, ‘cause I didn’t want to? That one’s blue and doesn’t look as cool as the black one. Anyway could you hook it up for me? Thanks.” Hater smiled condescendingly, leaning back in his bed.

“You…” Peepers breathed. “Okay. Fine, that’s...fine. Good.” He ripped the cords out of the disgusting Gamebox—more like a grease-box now, he thought with contempt—and shoved it aside, planting down the new console and plugging it in. He switched it on, put in the disk, stood up and flipped the TV on.

“There.”

The large flat screen at the head of Lord Hater’s bed lit up with the game’s menu screen and Lord Hater’s face immediately scrunched up in distress.

“Wait. Where’s the continue button?” He flicked the controller stick, finding nothing but New Game, Settings, and Quit.

He must have somehow managed to delete all his data, too. Peepers sighed.

“Oh grop,” Hater moaned, “My save file must’ve been on the Gamebox, not the disk, UGH!”

Oh. That made sense too. That actually wasn't bad deductive reasoning for Lord Hater.

He ground his controller into his face, making inscrutable, frustrated sounds, before finally groaning and looking back up at the screen. After a moment he sighed dramatically and selected New Game.

“Whatever, I guess I just have to do it all over again.”

“Do you still need my help then, sir?” He highly doubted Lord Hater would want him clogging up any more of his ‘me time’ than absolutely necessary.

“What? Yeah, stay here,” Hater motioned for Peepers to come up onto the bed, “it shouldn’t take too long.”

Oh.

He climbed up onto the bed and awkwardly crawled over to the middle where Lord Hater was, the water sloshing underneath him. He carefully made sure to keep about a two foot distance between the two of them as he settled himself down.

This was definitely...new.

After sitting through the opening cutscene and skipping past all the dialogue at a bullet-fast pace, Lord Hater moved his player character deftly through the game, a focused look on his face as he seemed to have the whole series of obstacles memorized. Peepers wondered how much time Lord Hater had sunk into this game. They both sat in silence for quite a while as he caught himself up to where he was before.

Once the initial weirdness of the situation faded, Peepers was able to able to ease up a bit, and even started to enjoy watching him play. Video games weren’t a thing Peepers had indulged in in a long time—probably not since middle school. The graphics were better now of course, and Peepers had no idea what the storyline was since Lord Hater had skipped past all of it, but a familiar nostalgia crept over him anyway, and he found himself leaning back on his hands, relaxed, slowly allowing himself to enjoy this silly diversion.

“Okay, I think I’m almost where I was before,” Hater said as his character made it’s way into an area with some stone ruins. “Yeah, see! There’s the old guy!”

He approached the entrance to a large, ominous looking temple, where an old man stood, his eye stalks poking out of the hood of his dark cloak. Lord Hater clicked the button to talk to the man.

“Yeah, blah blah blah, 10,000 years of worship, lots of traps…” Hater did a fairly accurate impersonation of the old man’s voice, and Peepers had to stifle a laugh. “...Aaand here!” he stopped flipping through the text and read out a particular phrase that was highlighted in red: “‘If you are to make it through the trials of this temple, you must be always wary of your surroundings and study each situation thoroughly.’ See, and it’s in red so you know it’s a hint. Doesn’t help at all, though!” he said loudly at the character on the screen. He took out his character’s laser gun and started shooting at the old man to no avail, the shots going right through him.

“Anyway, it’s just in here, like, the first puzzle.” After the loading screen, the first room of the temple appeared, consisting of three large blocks, a high up platform at the end of the room, leading to somewhere out of sight, and not much else.

“You can push these blocks around, pick them up, stack them, whatever, but no matter what I do I can’t get up to the next area. I think the people who made this game must have messed up or something.”

“Well…” Peepers squinted at the scene, “You can climb up those vines on the blocks right?” He had seen him do it earlier in the game.

“Yeah, but I can’t climb on top of them when I have them stacked, which is what I need to do in order to get to the area up there. And I already tried making a staircase with them, it doesn’t work.”

Peeper’s thought for a moment. “I think you just need to turn them all the right way so the vines line up and you can get to the top.”

“What?” he said, annoyance in his tone. “What are you talking about?”

“Just...turn each block so that the vines line up with each other and then climb up that.”

Lord Hater squinted at him, then at the screen, then back at him.

“What?”

“Here, look,” Peepers pointed at the screen, “Turn that block so the vine-covered side faces you.”

“Uhh, okay.”

“Now do that to the other two as well.”

“Okayyy…”

With all the vines facing him, understanding started to light up his face.

“Then you just stack them all like that and—”

“Ohhh I got it, I got it!!!!” Hater quickly threw each block on top of the other, creating a tower of blocks with one side covered in climbable vines, leading up to the area above. “Haha, YEAH!!”

Peepers smiled as he watched him, his posture now upright and energized, his face lit up in excitement as he had his character climb up to the area above. It felt good to be understood for once, even if it was something inconsequential like this.

Without either of them saying anything, Peepers stayed, despite having finished doing what had been asked of him, and Lord Hater continued through the temple, Peepers occasionally helping out here and there whenever he’d get stuck. Eventually he got to the boss, where a cutscene revealed it to be the old man from the beginning. Lord Hater was very pleased to have a chance at vengeance and threw all his might at him. He got his character hurt pretty badly but managed to defeat him without too much trouble. He seemed to be better at the fighting sections in general, more so than any of the other parts of the game, which, when Peepers thought about it, wasn’t too surprising.

What was surprising, Peepers thought as he watched him progress through the next several objectives, was how quickly Lord Hater was able to grasp the solutions to puzzles when he walked him through it. There seemed to be something about having the puzzle there in front of him, physical and malleable, that helped him understand more than any verbal or visual explanation ever could on it’s own.

"Hey Peepers, check out this guy," Hater said, gesturing with his chin to the canine-like enemy walking within the confines of a small courtyard. He snickered as he let loose a plasma bomb, blowing the wolf into the air and, for some glitchy reason, stuck into the wall, where it seemed to have taken damage but not enough to kill it. It shook off the damage, but was still half stuck in the wall, and continued it's walk cycle in it's new permanent location.

"Hah! Stupid frost-wervils. Stuck in the wall!" Hater laughed again as he threw another bomb, promptly destroying the enemy and clearing the path for him.

Peepers giggled, which was a strange sensation, and certainly one he hadn't experienced in quite some time, not genuinely. This realization silenced his laugh as quickly as it began. He swallowed, hoping he hadn't sounded too ridiculous, but Lord Hater didn't seem to notice and instead continued on,

"Those guys are the stupidest, easiest enemies to mess with. They even had this stupid boss, some mom-wolf. 'You'll never touch a hair on their precious little heads!'" Hater spoke in a high pitched, yet rough voice, before falling back on his bed in dramatics. "'Nooo, you'll never get away with this!! Oh nooo, I'm dying! I'm just a stupid wervil!'" He continued to pretend-die a very loud death before bursting into uproarious laughter. Peepers couldn't help but laugh at how funny the look on Hater’s face was as he “died,” and found himself really enjoying this...friendly interaction. Two people laughing together. Having a nice time.

It continued like this for some time—Lord Hater making up voices, Peepers providing the occasional commentary, both of them laughing and forgetting the actual objectives of the game—until Hater's stomach growled, he groused, and Peepers realized he was also astonishingly hungry, though somehow he hadn't noticed until now. His eye was also very tired and dry, and he rubbed at it, sighing, and got up, the bed sloshing a bit as he did so. He could probably make something simple for the both of them and then head to bed. It was late after all.

"I'm gonna call for pizza," Lord Hater said, pulling out his phone.

"Oh," Peepers said quietly. He sat back down.

Well that worked too. Pizza was fine.

He looked back over at his boss' face, staring off into nothing as the dial tone rang, his eyes tired yet contented, like it didn't matter that it was one in the morning and they had important things to do the next day, like all that mattered right now was ordering some pizza, prolonging this time they were spending together, even if it meant nothing and was stupid and unproductive.

And,

even if it meant nothing to him, even if it shouldn’t mean much to Peepers...even if any practical justifications he knows he'll come up with for continuing this are obvious lies…

He was content to continue as well.

And so they did.

Pizza came and was eaten, jokes were told, soda was spilled, and a friendly, only-slightly-too-hard shove and noogie was received in a fit of laughter. Eventually, Peepers suddenly found himself waking up to Lord Hater fighting the final boss for the third time in row and announced reluctantly that he ought to head to bed. A little later, after not leaving and instead falling asleep again, he woke up to him fighting the same boss, and when Peepers asked how many attempts he had missed, Hater replied 'I don't know, like a bunch? Wait I think I got it this time!', and though he definitely didn't have it that time, he did the next round, and as the final cutscene played out and the credits rolled, they both celebrated in their own way, Hater whooping and hollering, posing and dancing around, and Peepers, by watching him.

“Ugh, you look terrible,” Lord Hater said once he turned his attention back to Peepers.

Peepers sighed. “Well sir, it is…” He squinted at clock on Hater’s bedside table. “5:15 a.m.” He grimaced. So much for sleep.

“Yeah, well, I guess I’m gonna turn in then.” He stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “Got places to be, people to conquer tomorrow.”

Getting Lord Hater up in three hours was going to be next to impossible, so Peepers began mentally reorganizing his schedule, pushing several of his morning tasks to the afternoon, allowing himself more time to than usual to sleep in (a generous three hours). Though unfortunately, this left Peepers with a much heavier load to deal with when he woke up. But hey, that’s what coffee was for.

Peepers got up slowly, allowing his equilibrium time to adjust, his vision blurry from exhaustion. He said goodnight but...Lord Hater was already asleep on top of the covers. Peepers sighed and settled him in properly, taking one last unabashed look at his sleeping face before he left. It was nice seeing him like that. Sure, he liked seeing him intimidating and scary but…this was just as good, for some reason.

He could feel sleep trying to overtake him as he made through all the doors to the elevator. He didn’t even realize he had gotten on it until the ping of the elevator woke him up as he reached his floor.

He walked blearily to his room, thinking about earlier to keep his mind awake. He considered how much Lord Hater seemed to understand the puzzles again, and he could feel that there was something there, some sort of great revelation, something he could use to help them in real life...but he just couldn’t think through it properly right now.

Before his head hit the pillow, he considered how nice the night had been, how much he’d love to do that sort of thing more often, and how unlikely that would probably be.


	6. The Coin Flip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! Sorry once again for the long wait, but finals were killer. It's finally summer, though, which means more chapters will (hopefully) be coming out sooner rather than later! I hope y'all are still with us because we have some real fun stuff coming up. 
> 
> We got a few new pieces of fan art, too! Slapping-the-bass sent us this [masterful depiction of Terry getting yelled at](http://aferretlee.tumblr.com/post/159853228545/hype-4-the-upd8-my-dudes-i-didnt-know-which-one), corndog-patrol made another [lovely piece](http://corndog-patrol.tumblr.com/post/160034222576/aferretlee-sincerelydeerly-terry-is-thinking), this time of our good soft boy Terry, and our friend annamunchia made [this](http://annamuchia.tumblr.com/post/160731851515/theres-that-boy-again-that-boy-terry-that) which I absolutely _adore_. Lemme know if I've missed anyone! I also have a new art blog, [artsyferretlee](https://artsyferretlee.tumblr.com/), so follow that and be on the lookout for Booty Call art and other woy stuff! It's mostly traditional but I'm also trying digital art for the first time in a thousand years so you might see more of that soon.
> 
> Thanks again for sticking with us, y'all are the best! Hope you like this chapter, it's very...spicy. :~)  
> (Also, we decided to mix in some real swears since silly alien swears were starting to feel a bit too constricting. They just don't have the same _punch_ , ya know? Hope that doesn't bother any of you!)
> 
> -Hannah
> 
>  
> 
> HEY EVERYONE! i'm so, genuinely sorry this took forever to publish. thank you to everyone who's sticking with us through all of this!!! hannah pretty much said it all, but here's a big reminder: WE LOVE THE SUPPORT Y'ALL HAVE GIVEN US!! we are grateful every single day!! thank you for everything!!
> 
> -case <33

“Hey!” Terry said cheerfully as he entered. “How ya doin’?”

Peepers looked up from where he was seated on his bed, flipping through one of his strategy guides.

“I'm fine. Busy.” He struck out a section in red pen. Extraneous.

“Heh, as always.” Terry sat down on the bed.

“Yes…” he replied, distracted. He had been at this for hours but was no closer to getting it edited down how he wanted. He felt compelled to keep working on it, but…

He looked up at Terry, who was waiting patiently, now on his phone. He sighed. He knew he'd probably do better after a break...it was just so hard to pull himself away sometimes.

He finally closed the binder and put it back over on his desk. 

Terry looked up from his phone and slipped it back into his pocket. “Finished?” 

Peepers sat back down on the bed, yawned, and stretched.  “No,” he said through the yawn. “But it's fine, I'll finish it later.”

"Okey doke. So hey! Um!" Terry started, suddenly sitting up straight.

Peepers immediately braced himself.

“I've been wondering… I'm not really sure if you'd be interested, since you've never brought it up yourself, and I'm not really sure if you just haven't considered it or just like, don't really want to? Because I know there _are_ plenty of people who don't, and that's totally fine, also it's not like a big deal or anything, it was more just curiosity, and I'm definitely good either way, so really, I just wanted to gauge your opini—

"Spit it out, Terry."

"Right, haha sorry,” he said. “I was just wondering if you'd be interested in anal?"

Thankfully, he had braced himself—he was getting to know Terry well enough at this point to know that tone of voice could only mean something embarrassing or uncomfortable—so even though the question _definitely_ threw him off, he was able to maintain his physical composure.

 _Mentally_ , though…

Well...he had _absolutely_ considered this. In fact, he had considered it a _lot_ , especially as of late. It was almost strange that Terry happened to be bringing it up when he did.

Over the past several months, Peepers had been getting more and more confident, comfortable, and perhaps even a bit adventurous when it came to being with Terry. Sometimes he'd try little things here and there—not often, though—and sometimes he'd figure out some new thing that either he or Terry liked. It was fun, casual, and kept things relatively interesting. But aside from that, things were mostly the same every week. They had been meeting for several months now, and while things weren't exactly getting boring, the idea of stagnation _had_ started to lurk in the corners of Peepers' mind, and so the fact that there was this major form of sex they hadn't actually tried yet… It had been looming heavier and heavier over him as time passed. He had considered bringing it up himself but he had never gotten far enough in the thought process to actually come up with a proper plan of action. He should have known better than to think that Terry _wouldn't_ bring it up himself.

And yes, he wanted to. He _definitely_ wanted to.

He had wanted to for ages, before he ever knew Terry, way before. He just...hadn't ever. Again, not for lack of _wanting_ to, the opportunity just...never really came around. He had known he was gay for practically as far back as he could remember, and as long as he had a libido and started learning about what sex was, he could remember fantasizing about all sorts of things, including (though not limited to) this. He maybe could have tried it with Patrick, but...well, that ship had sailed a long time ago.

So, he knew that this was coming, and he knew this _was_ what he wanted...but the fact remained that he would be completely inept and probably very _obviously_ so when it came to actually doing it. Which is why he had, very stupidly, been avoiding coming up with a gameplan of his own. And now he was paying the price for his procrastination.

"Like I said, it's no big deal, I know plenty of people aren't into it. Just thought I'd bring it up, in case, ya know, you were."

Peepers swallowed before speaking. "Yes, sure, that sounds fine," he said, anxiety steadily mounting in the pit of his stomach.

"Oh cool! Would you wanna do that tonight?"

Peeper exhaled and shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. "Sure, why not."

"Neat!" Terry got up and opened Peeper's bedside drawer, taking out the bottle of lube. "Oh wait, which do you wanna..." he stopped, thinking on his words for a moment. He looked at Peepers’, tilting his head. "Do you want to...hm. Who's doing what, here?"

"What do you mean," Peepers said, stalling for time even though he absolutely knew what Terry meant.

"I mean, I _could_ say who's gonna be on the bottom or top...but…I don't know, I've never really thought that phrasing was all that accurate. So...I guess, for lack of better terms, do you wanna _be_ penetrated or be the one penetrating?" he asked, then added, “Eugh, that's worse.”

Peepers breathed. It was all well and good thinking about this in the abstract—when you’re fantasizing, you can imagine whatever you want, all the fun parts with none of the anxiety, none of the _talking_. But this was real life.

He knew that _technically_ there was no “superior” position, and that the idea that there was one was very archaic and silly. He also recognized Terry was _insufferably_ considerate and almost certainly did not subscribe to that sort of thinking. But...even knowing that was the case, it remained that no matter what either of them _believed_ , it was still something that could have significant _subconscious_ implications concerning balance of power between the two of them.

With that in mind, the clear answer was to “top” Terry.

But.

 _But_.

Peepers had never done anything like this before. As far as he knew, both were equally good, right?

But also…he _maybe_ tended to fantasize a _bit_ more about being on the receiving end. Maybe.

Perhaps it could even be considered it's own form of control? He imagined himself, lazily, without a care, giving Terry permission. Spreading his legs.

He shifted in his seat, the tiny inklings of images and thoughts rapidly running wild through him. It wasn't that easy though! Even if he gave the illusion of control, it could still appear weak…and certainly didn't follow his track record with Terry. He was _Commander Peepers_ , in control of the entire Hater _army_. _He_ takes. _He_ controls. To risk his image like that…

“I don’t have a preference,” Peepers blurted out, because it was the logical thing to say and not because he was a coward.

“Hm...yeah, neither do I. I like both.” Terry said, sitting down on the bed. “Well, whatever we do, we can always do it the other way around next time!”

Ah. Next time.

“How ‘bout we flip a coin?”

Peepers looked at him, aghast.

He laughed. “I know it’s kinda silly,” he said, rooting around in his pocket, “but I mean, if neither of us have a preference, but we still wanna do it, how else are we gonna decide?” He pulled a shiny gold coin out of his pocket and held it up. “Heads for me ‘topping’, tails for you?”

Peepers looked at the coin and felt very, very… _something_ when he realized that it was a Hater Empire minted coin, heads side facing him.

The universe just loved to pull these little pranks on him, didn't it?

He sighed.

“This is incredibly stupid,” he said. “But fine. Go ahead.”

Terry smiled and flipped the coin, and Peepers watched as it soared through the air, contemplating in that brief moment the absolute farce that was his life. But as it fell, so did his qualms, and suddenly he was overwhelmed with apprehension, on the edge of his seat as Terry caught it and flipped it onto the back of his other hand.

He took his hand away and…

Heads.

“Heads!” Terry said pleasantly.

Peepers suddenly felt very light-headed.

Terry looked at him. “That good with you?”

He snapped his vision from the coin to Terry's face. His throat felt tight. He tried clearing it, but it didn't help.

“Yes,” his voice breaking ever so slightly.

Terry hesitated for a beat, studying his face.

“How about we take it slow,” he said and set the bottle on the nightstand. “If we get going and decide we don't wanna do it, we can always do something else. Nothing has to be set in stone.” He moved his hand up Peepers’ leg.

Peepers knew when he was being coddled, but he wasn't about to argue.

He was also getting used to improvisation. You could even say he was getting skilled at it, actually. So, despite the fact that he knew he was going into uncharted territory, he tried his best to take it in stride, reminding himself that nothing disastrous has happened between the two of them yet, and that there was no reason that anything would happen now.

This was an easy thing to repeat to himself, but slightly less easy to get his nerves to believe.

Peepers’ breath came unsteady as Terry touched him, pulling in close to breathe teasing breaths on his neck. He shifted closer, all the way in Peepers’ space now, and breathed softly by his ear.

He shivered involuntarily.

For a moment, it was actually rather easy to forget about what was going to happen later. He just gave into the feelings without worrying, like he had gotten so used to doing. That was, until Terry pressed forward, gently pressing him down into the bed beneath him.

He was thankful Terry was still busying himself at his neck because he very quickly felt his face flush red, now hyper-aware of the position they were in with Terry on top of him. It wasn't anything _new_ , not at all...but it was different this time. There was sensation of vulnerability he hadn't felt in a while, something he thought he had managed to get over at least a couple months ago. He knew it was only because Terry was technically “on top” of him right then, which was stupid and didn't mean he was _doing_ anything yet, but that didn't seem to matter to his body, because it was reacting _very_ happily nonetheless. He literally had to hold back a flarpin’ _moan_ as Terry rut against him, unable to stop his usually repressed thoughts from running wild, not just imagining Terry rutting _against_ him but _into_ him.

Grop, okay, yeah, he _really_ wanted this.

He held onto Terry, rutting back into him with vigor. He heard a sigh as he did, but he still wasn’t able to see him except out of the corner of his eye.

Peepers closed his eye and tried to enjoy the sensation for what it was...but images kept flashing through his mind. It was like once the idea had been put in there, it was all he could think about. This time he couldn't help a small sound that came from him as he felt Terry's hips moving against his.

He stopped briefly, repositioning himself so both of his legs were between Peepers’ legs and his arms were on either side of him, propping himself up. This had Peepers’ legs bent up and sort of spread out and that, Peepers thought, maybe _was_ new, but he couldn't be sure, because the second Terry rut against him again, this time sliding all the way from his ass to his cock, all logical thought immediately left his brain and a, this time _unmistakable,_ moan bubbled out of him before he had a chance to stop it. Terry, hearing this, looked back at Peepers, but Peepers looked away quick enough that he didn't catch anything more than vague surprise on his face.

 _Grop,_ they'd barely gotten _started._

Terry was too far away to hold onto, so Peepers couldn't do much but turn his head to the side as Terry continued, slowly. He fixated on the bottle of lube still sitting on the nightstand, and his mind was happy to fill in the image of Terry applying it to—and _grop almighty_ a huge surge of arousal quickly flooded to his groin. He didn't care—or at least, _tried_ not to care—about the anxiety anymore, he _wanted_ it.

He exhaled, trying to steel his nerves. “Alright, that's enough,” he said, doing his best to keep the shaking from his voice.

Terry immediately stopped, looking at him wide-eyed. Peepers could _feel_ how pink he probably was, but in the heat of the moment all he could do was push through it.

“Clothes off.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah,” Terry said, clumsily pulling away from him and taking off his shirt and pants.

Peepers busied himself with his own shirt, and when he tossed it aside, he noticed Terry, nearly naked, looking at him.

“...What?”

“Oh, just wondering if you want it _all_ off?” Terry asked with a bit of humor in his voice, gesturing to his underwear.

“Yes.” The longer this took, the higher chance his sky-high anxiety would peek through some inevitable cracks.

“M’kay,” he hummed, and kicked them off to the floor.

He noticed that Terry was halfway hard and felt his own erection twinge in response. He quickly disposed of the rest of his own clothes off the side of the bed as well.

This was the part that was always a bit awkward no matter what—when they were undressed but not yet back to touching, both of them forced to take a conscious moment to get back to what they were doing. Terry crawled back over to him, and as he carefully re-positioned himself on top, Peepers couldn’t help but stare up at him, wide-eyed, anxiety coiling like a snake in his chest. Terry met his eye and gave him a reassuring smile.

The coddling would be nearly too much for him to bear if it wasn’t for the traces of anxiety he could detect on Terry’s face.

Terry closed his eye and leaned down to kiss him, which Peepers met with (only a little) relief. His leg jolted slightly when he felt a hand on his thigh, warm and mildly damp, and shivered as it traveled to in his inner thigh, edging closer to his crotch. He kept his eye closed when Terry pulled away from the kiss, his hand continuing to wander. Peepers could feel the little lines of thought starting to rush around in his mind, wondering frantically where Terry would go first, what would Terry _do_ first.

He cracked his eye open and saw Terry was looking at him, but as soon as they made eye contact, Terry quickly looked away, seemingly embarrassed at being caught in the act. He leaned down to kiss Peepers' neck, his hand moving away from his thigh and instead to his chest, lightly brushing over his nipple.

Peepers could feel anxiety starting to go from a low simmer to a respectable boil, so he took a quick, deep breath, and tried exhaling it as evenly as he could. This was just like any other time, they were just going to do something a little... _different_ later. The jitters in his chest nearly overflowed at the thought of _what was to come_ , and he took another breath, reminding himself he’d go with the flow like he had on every other occasion and it’d be fine. It’d be fine!

He let himself go a bit and tried to give into the sensations Terry was bringing him, focusing in on how his hands felt on his chest, his mouth on his collarbone. He noted the warmth of Terry’s body, and allowed himself to melt into the touch, each movement slowly dulling his thoughts. Eventually, Terry's hand slipped down again, and Peepers was more than ready for it when Terry took him in his hand, lightly touching him from base to tip. He stroked him properly for a heavenly moment, which Peepers was _very_ thankful for, but then he stopped, glanced up at him, and started moving his hand down, _past_ his cock.

Peepers felt his pulse quicken as Terry’s hand continued down over his balls. Oh grop, what was he going to _do_? He didn’t actually know a whole lot about how this was done—he had never really properly... _researched_ anything like this. Was he going to try—was he going to stick his _finger_ in?? Ohh grop, oh grop. Peepers squeezed his eye shut, all _sorts_ of thoughts frantically rushing around his mind, each making him more nervous than the last. What was it going to feel like, what _exactly_ would Terry do, would he _move_ his fingers, how long would he do it…

He tried to swallow down his thoughts, bracing himself for whatever was going to happen.

But then Terry’s hand stilled, moving over to rest on his inner thigh. Peepers froze.

"Do you..." Oh _grop_ his voice was so gently, sickeningly soft. "Do you want me to hold off?"

Hold off? Hold off on _what_ exactly??

He cleared his clenched throat awkwardly. "No. Proceed," he said, and almost immediately regretted it. ‘ _Proceed’_. He sounded like some corny college professor.

Terry searched his face for a second before smiling. "You got it.” He reached for the lube sitting on the nightstand.

Peepers shifted nervously, taking a deep breath to try releasing the tight feeling in his chest. He covered his face with one hand, unable to look, unable to _think_ in detail about what Terry was going to do—

When he felt something cold drip right onto his cock. An uncontrollable yelp escaped him and his whole body jerked in surprise. He would have scuttled up the bed if he wasn't already up against the headboard.

"Oh zreb, I'm sorry!" Terry held his hands closer to himself, clutching the bottle. "Stuff's slippery, sorry..."

"It's fine," Peepers said, strained. He tried to calm himself down, his heart beating wildly out of his chest.

Terry squirted some out onto his hand, and Peepers had to look away before his mind reeled at the image.

"Um...," Terry said, setting the bottle down, "this might be a _bit_ cold..."

Peepers braced himself as Terry leaned back over him and reached a hand down between them. He knew what to be expecting, but the second he felt that stripe of cold wetness on him, he hissed, and his hand reached out and squeezed Terry's forearm.

Terry immediately pulled his hand away, looking down at Peepers with concern.

"You okay??"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine, just—" Peepers said, annoyed. He forced himself to ease his grip on Terry's arm and avoided eye contact as best he could. "It's just cold, like you said."

"Sorry," he said, sympathetic. "I'll try to warm it up?" 

He put his hand back on him, rubbing a few fingers up against his entrance. This time Peepers was a bit more ready for it and just tried to breath deeply, closing his eye and trying to focus on staying calm, but any and all calming thoughts were constantly interrupted by the slight shivers that ran through him from his gentle touch in such a... _sensitive_ area.

"Hey um...wait." Terry slowed to a stop and looked down at Peepers. "Have you... Have you ever done this before?"

Ohhh _fuck_.

"Uh..." Peepers squeaked, and felt him face heat up. He cleared his throat. Swallowed.

It wasn't like he’d never done _anything_ like this before. He had... _experimented_ very casually with himself, occasionally, sure, but this was different, and much, _much_ more intimidating. This wasn't going to be his own finger, or even _just_ a finger, it was...

He knew if he lied, Terry would expect a certain amount of competence on his end, assume he'd know how to do things without any sort of guidance or warnings…

He definitely wasn’t ready for that. He had no choice but to tell the truth.

"I..." He struggled to get the words out. “Not...per _se_.”

Terry looked at him with concern. “Oh…”

He looked away, thinking.

Peepers was going to die. He had never felt more vulnerable. His face burned as he watched Terry think. He wondered if Terry was just going to call it quits right then because he hadn’t realized he was dealing with a novice. It would make sense.

“Well…” Terry said after a moment, “I wouldn’t mind guiding you through it, for sure. We can take it slow, like I said before. It’s just, uh…”

Anxiety clutched his chest. “What?”

“Well…” Terry said, sitting back, leaving more space between them. “We’re probably gonna have to talk.”

Terry looked at Peepers as if he was expecting some sort of reaction...but he didn't really know what to say to that.

“I mean, not a _lot_ ,” he continued, “but some. We gotta communicate and I’m not one hundred percent sure I know your body language well enough. Sometimes it can hurt a bit so I’d rather be safe than sorry.” He shrugged. 

“I see,” said Peepers, trying to be as matter-of-fact as possible.

He knew that logically, this made sense, and would theoretically make things go smoother. It probably shouldn’t be _that_ big of a deal, at least he knew that in theory, but for the most part, they barely talked at all during sex, so this would...probably take getting used to. The only time Peepers ever really spoke was when he was telling Terry to shut up, and Terry had gotten a lot better at staying quiet than he had been in the beginning, that was for sure, but now all that was gonna go out the window.

“You okay with that?”

Peepers sighed wearily. Terry’s constant checkups didn’t really annoy him quite as much as they _used_ to but...they _were_ still annoying.

“Yes, that’s fine,” he said, making his annoyance clear in his tone.

“Alright,” Terry said with a soft smile. “So um…hold on.” He cautiously placed his hand on Peepers’ entrance again, feeling it for a moment before getting the bottle of lube again and putting a bit on one of his fingers. “Could you spread your legs a little bit more?” he asked, gently.

Peepers flushed, completely unable to look him in the eye as he consciously put himself into this extremely embarrassing position, trying to be as smooth as possible and _not_ reveal any sort of nervousness through visible twitching as he did so.

“I don’t know how much you _do_ know or don’t,” Terry continued, “but I kinda have to get you relaxed enough first. So I’m just gonna start with a finger, okay?”

Peepers breathed as Terry’s hand moved back onto him but stopped right over his entrance.

He looked up at Terry, wondering (with only mild annoyance) why he stopped.

Terry looked back at him...waiting.

Oh, right. Talking.

“Yes, I heard you,” he said, flustered, wanting things to just _get a move on_.

“Cool,” he replied, and pressed his finger against him, moving it around a bit but not quite going in. It felt a bit strange with so much lube on him but...it also felt kinda nice?

“Oh also,” he said, taking hold of Peeper’s cock in his other hand, “you gotta try to relax _yourself_ too.”

“Right,” Peepers quickly replied. He didn’t want Terry to think he didn’t know _anything_. He also was maybe starting to feel just a _tad_ overwhelmed at this weird little... _massage_ that Terry was giving him, if he could call it that. Here he was, Commander Peepers, legs open, with someone between them, touching him in such a new place, about to _do_ something entirely new and vulnerable...and he was allowing it. That’s right. He swallowed, remembering that this, all of this, was happening because he was allowing it to happen, it was all under _his_ control. This brought him a bit more comfort, thinking of it that way.

He took a deep breath and exhaled as slow and deliberate as he could, trying to just enjoy the sensation, focusing on _that_ rather than all the insecurities and worries his mind wanted to conjure up for him.

After a moment he felt Terry's finger pressing into him a bit more before finally slipping in. He immediately felt himself hold his breath, his whole body feeling extra sensitive to this new sensation. He started to freeze up before remembering he needed to relax, and took a slow inhale, closing his eye.

"You good?" he heard Terry ask.

He nodded, and felt him continue, the pressure rising slowly. He tried focusing on the feeling in order to relax, trying to...open himself up, he guessed?? Just thinking something like that nearly had him squirming.

Peepers opened his eye for a moment to watch Terry as he moved his hand slowly on his cock, pushing his finger in little by little, serenely focused on what he was doing. Peepers felt his face starting to heat up as he watched him and immediately shut his eye again.

Just as he was starting to worry that Terry might be going a bit _too_ slow, he felt him press up inside him in _just_ the right place, and he couldn't help the small gasp that escaped him.

"Was that a good gasp?" Terry asked immediately.

"Yes," Peepers said, breathless and a bit annoyed at having this new experience interrupted.

"Nice."

He felt him press into the spot again, almost caressing it. Peepers gripped at the blanket underneath him as he did this because not only did it feel _very_ good but also _wow_ this was weird. Usually when he tried this himself he wasn’t able to get much out of it, but this was… _surprisingly_ good.

Terry kept this up for a while—to the point where Peepers was no longer able to hide his squirming—before he eventually took his hand away. Peepers heard the snap of the lube being opened again, and his eye blinked open just in time to see Terry squirting more into his hand.

“You think I can try two?” Terry asked as he placed a newly wet finger on his hole again. Peepers shivered.

“Um.” It took him a moment to remember how to use words as Terry slowly slipped his finger back in. “Yes. Yes, you can try it.”

“‘Kay,” he said with a smile.

He moved in finger in and out a few times before slowly, _slowly—_ Peepers focusing with all his might to relax—pushing his second finger in. It felt like a _lot_ all at once, almost too much, but Peepers reminded himself that he was fine and in control, and eventually managed to get comfortable with the sensation. Terry’s fingers pressing against that spot was definitely helping some, and he was finding that he could sort of revel in the pressure as it was becoming more and more pleasant as they went on.

Peepers opened his eye to see Terry watching him, adamantly this time, not averting his gaze as he continued to move his fingers in and out of him. Peepers felt himself tense up in embarrassment.

“You good?” Terry asked, a weird serious edge to his tone that Peepers wasn't used to.

“Yes,” Peepers said.

Ugh...he hated it, but he reminded himself that he _did_ agree to talk more.

“It feels...fine, now,” he added.

“Not hurting?”

“No. It—” Grop, this was embarrassing. “It feels good.” _Why_ did Terry have to put him through this?? ...Well, he knew why, but still.

“Yeah?” Terry asked, smiling, a bit of a huskiness in his voice now. He pressed in again, watching as Peepers reacted, his back arching slightly.

“Y-yes,” he said, annoyance not quite coming out how he wanted.

Terry was breathing a bit heavier now, and leaned over Peepers, taking his hand off his cock to hold himself up.

“Um,” Terry said, “You think we can—” 

“Yes.”

“You…you sure?”

“Yes, grop, come _on_ ,” Peepers said in a rush, absolutely, one hundred percent unable to look Terry in the face.

“Heh, okay.” He smiled and flipped open the lube again.

‘ _This was it’_ was all Peepers could think. After all this time he was finally gonna do this big thing he'd always wanted to do. And with a watchdog no less—the novelty of which had not worn _completely_ off. He doubted it ever would.

He looked down to see Terry lining himself up and Peepers quickly looked away and shut his eye. He felt something press against him and he sucked in a breath, hardly daring to breathe.

“Peepers…?” he heard Terry say carefully.

“ _Yes_??”

He felt a hand caress his thigh. “You have to relax.”

Augh. He was right. He had gotten all tense again without realizing. He nodded, took another deep breath, and tried to relax on the exhale.

As he did so, he felt Terry’s dick press up a bit firmer against him, and slowly, _ever_ so slowly start to slide in. His mind felt strangely blank, only able to take in the feeling of it all. At first Peepers really only felt stretching, _weird_ stretching, then too _much_ stretching and—

Terry stopped nearly instantly when Peepers started to grimace.

“Sorry, too much?” he asked.

“Just…” Peepers did his best to relax himself, and after a having a moment to adjust, the discomfort started to ease off bit by bit. “Okay, I’m...I’m fine, now,” he said with confidence.

“Okay,” Terry said, trusting his judgement without question.

Peepers continued to adjust himself as Terry pushed into him in a little at a time, and then, when he felt Terry manage to get the entirety of the head in, Peepers was suddenly and completely _overwhelmed_ with the urge to moan.

He opened his eye a crack and saw Terry looking at him, surprise on his face.  

Okayyy...so maybe he _actually_ moaned. He quickly snapped his eye closed again, embarrassed at his... _outburst_.

But grop, he couldn't help it, and as Terry pushed in more, he couldn't help the long, drawn-out moan that escaped him; It was beyond his control, there was nothing he could _do_ , it was all...feeling.

He could vaguely feel Terry’s arms shaking beside him, could sort of hear Terry’s breathing get rougher, but all he could _really_ take in was this _fullness_ ...this incredible feeling of having Terry actually _inside_ him. He absently thought again about how Terry was a watchdog, how right now, he, Commander Peepers, had _a watchdog_ inside of him, but he couldn’t entertain the thought for longer than a moment, he was simply too caught up in it all.

His moan pitched up right at the end as he felt absolutely _glorious_ pressure right where he wanted it.

“Just making sure but,” Terry choked out, “you're good, right?”

Peepers literally _whined_ in response. He felt himself flush in embarrassment at this, but nothing in his brain was telling him that such a reaction was anything less than 100% understandable.

“Yes or no?” Terry asked, sounding desperate.

“ _Yes!_ ” he nearly yelled. _Why_ the ever-loving _flarp_ was he being expected to talk right now??! _Clearly_ he was enjoying this, clearly, _clearly_ he was LOVING having someone’s dick in his ass!! _Why_ was Terry always _such a pain_???

“Okay, sorry,” Terry laughed, breathless. “I'm uh.” He breathed for a second. “I'm gonna try moving some more, okay?”

Peepers nodded vigorously. “Yes, please do.”

Terry pulled out a bit, still at a snail's pace, and Peepers was oddly grateful for this as he still didn't think he could handle it yet if they went any faster. It was only a little uncomfortable, but luckily the discomfort that he did feel was largely overwhelmed by how _good_ it felt. He was honestly surprised at just how nice it felt to have something _inside_ him like that, so full and… He felt embarrassed to admit to himself that the stretching was also more than just pleasant.

As he came back to the present, he could see Terry's composure was all but gone; He was practically panting above him, his arms shaky and unstable, his eye closed shut.

“Hah,” Terry said as he continued to pull out, “you…mm...”

Peepers could feel the anticipation in his gut for Terry to start pushing back in, and he clenched at the sheets. 

“You feel…” he continued, “really, really nice…”

Peepers whined as he felt Terry pull almost completely out, stop for a moment, then start to push in again. In that moment he felt nearly overwhelmed with the desire, the _need_ to pull him down and grip onto him for dear life, but he was too far away for that, and the shred of dignity that he had left stopped him. It felt like _so much_ though, he was unsure how he was even managing—but he was, and it felt so, _so_ right.

In the midst of everything, Peepers felt his hand move to one of Terry's shaky arms, clasping his wrist in a blind attempt to feel more tethered. He was momentarily grateful that he hadn't accidentally grabbed his hand.

He felt Terry stop again.

"I-is everything okay??" he asked, the words pouring out of him shakily, and when Peepers opened his eye, he saw Terry looking at him, wide-eyed, searching.

Peepers could hardly meet his gaze and looked away instead. " _Yes_ ," he groaned, pressing his hand a little further up Terry's arm with impatience.

"Oh," Terry sighed in relief before continuing to press slowly into him. "Sorry, just..." His breathing hitched slightly. "You grabbed me, so… Just making...sure..."

" _Yes_ , I—" Peepers was interrupted by that glorious pressure again. "Ooohh _zreb_..."

He heard Terry gasp and then give out a low chuckle. "That's, ah, a good zreb, then?" he asked as he started to pull back out again.

Peepers groaned in annoyance and opened his eye to pointedly glare at him. "Just what do you thiii..."

He felt his eye roll back as Terry unexpectedly pushed in again. "Hh... _Terry_ , holy..."

"Y-yeah?" He could practically feel the shudder in Terry’s voice.

Peepers gasped for breath, gripping onto his arm even tighter. He was _not_ used to seeing Terry quite so affected so _quickly_. There must've been something about this he liked more than he had let on before. Whatever it was, it was driving Peepers up the wall now, watching just how _into_ it he was as he thrust shallowly into him.

"You um," Terry breathed, "you'll tell me if it's too much or anything, right?"

"Yes, I’ll tell you," he gasped. He didn't feel like he had the capacity to put up any sort of facade anyway, even if he wanted to. It was all out now.

He couldn't find it in himself to care.

"Okay, um. Do you think you're ready for me to move a bit faster...?"

Peepers felt where he was at now. It wasn't too bad—the lube helped a lot despite the tight squeeze. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but going faster kind of sounded like exactly what his body wanted right then. He also knew if it ended up being too much he could always get him to stop.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

"Okay, um, hold on," he said, pulling out slowly until he was out completely, which was another very _strange_ sensation. He felt very suddenly empty and immediately had to choke down a whimper that wanted to make its way up his throat.

"I'm just gonna...add a bit more to be safe," Terry said, reaching for the bottle.

Peepers tried to catch his breath as he waited for Terry.

He had known this was going to be a significantly different experience than anything they had done previously, but he had _not_ anticipated just how overwhelming it would be. He supposed he _could_ have predicted it, considering just how easily he could get off to fantasies about this sort of thing, but the actual act itself was just so... _intense_. He expected the vulnerability; that much is completely logical, he’s purposefully putting himself into a very vulnerable position. The embarrassment, the anxiety, all of that made sense. But he couldn’t have imagined the precise sensations he was dealing with now, it was all just too unique and amazing and overwhelming and _hot_.

"Alright..." Terry said as a warning as he started to line himself back up, bringing Peepers back to reality. But just as his cock pressed up against him, he stopped.

"Actually..." he held up his hand to look at. It was shaking fairly badly. "Do you think we could maybe change positions? I don't know if I can uh...hold myself up much longer. I don't wanna fall on you," he laughed, then mumbled, "Maybe I oughta do some push-ups or something..."

"Oh. Um..." Peepers looked around, trying to think what other possible position they could be in, generously ignoring the fact that all watchdogs are technically _required_ to do regular workouts and _should_ be at a certain level of physique.

“We could go on your side?” Terry said. “Like…here.”

He pushed Peepers gently, implying that he wanted him to roll onto his side. He did so, all his thoughts dissipating as he felt his erection brush against the bedspread. He burned with embarrassment.

“And then I can just…” He laid down behind Peepers, scooching up close enough to him that Peepers felt the heat from his chest and what felt like his cock rubbing up against his backside. Terry placed a hand on his hip, which then slid down to his thigh.

“Bend your legs forward a little bit?” Terry breathed, his hand gently urging him.

“Okay...” he said, and did so. For a brief, terrifying moment, he felt completely unsure. Sure, he had already gone through nearly every single embarrassing step of all of this with Terry already, and sure, he _should_ be able to handle this, but this...this was different. Terry’s words, dripping with care and kindness, for some reason shot a surge of nerves into his system.

Terry placed a hand on his shoulder and shimmied even closer. He felt Terry's warmth as he pressed up against him, his cock sending a thrill up Peepers' spine as it slid against his ass. His nerves started to slowly dissolve as anticipation took its place.

“Remember to relax,” Terry said soothingly, rubbing lightly on his shoulder.

Peepers took a deep breath and tried his best to follow Terry's instruction, but was unable to stop himself from grasping at the sheets when he felt Terry start to press into him again. He could hear Terry’s breath even more clearly now, right behind him, shallow, shaky, and warm.

“Just let me know if it gets to be too much,” Terry said, his voice strained.

Peepers nodded and squeezed his eye shut.

With that, Terry eased into him slowly, this time able to slide in without much trouble. Peepers whined as Terry pulled back and pressed into him again with a bit more force, his backside hitting flush with Terry's hips. Peepers gasped, leaning his face into the pillow so as to quiet his moans.

He wasn’t even going _that_ hard or fast, but it was enough to have Peepers biting down on the pillow beneath him. He wanted nothing but to squeal and whimper and moan but there was still something inside him that was telling him that that wouldn't be a good idea, that Terry would judge him, that—

At that moment he felt Terry rut into him, hard, and through absolutely no volition of his own, a moan bubbled up and out of his throat.

" _Terryyyy_."

He felt Terry's head press against the back of his and his gasping breath as he stopped.

"Are—Do you—"

"Don't—" Peepers gasped, reaching blindly for Terry's hips. "Don't _stop._ " He found purchase and gripped, coaxing him to move again.

He heard Terry chuckle, a bit hysterical-sounding, as he started to move again.

"Okay, from now on just—" he laughed, "I'll take any sounds you make as good sounds? Just—just say stop if you want me to—hhh—to—to stop, okay?"

Peepers nodded and whined. He felt Terry's head rest against him, felt his shallow breath on his neck, only slightly damp but _grop darn it_ Peepers could _not_ care less anymore.

"I just—um," Terry started.

Peepers moaned as Terry thrust hard into him again and felt his hands tighten on him as he did so.

"I just don't think I'm really used to you, uh...reacting quite like this," he said. Peepers could _hear_ the smile in his voice.

He felt his whole face, possibly his whole body, heat up in embarrassment. He gripped tighter at the pillow and hid, though he knew it was pointless. Obviously Terry was going to see how pathetic and desperate he was being, why wouldn't he? Why is he surprised?

"It's not bad though!!" Terry amended, slowing down a bit. "It's not—it's not bad at all! Not at all. I, um..."

He heard Terry chuckle a bit to himself.

"It's uh, it's actually really cool?"

Cool??? So, what, was Terry getting _off_ on the fact that he had Peepers so...so _subjugated_?? So overwhelmed and pitiful before him??

Shamefully, this idea only seemed to arouse Peepers _more_ , his thoughts mingling with the feeling of Terry's cock thrusting inside him. Being at the mercy of someone else's whim like this was...

He heard Terry take a breath.

"It's nice seeing you enjoy this," Terry said. Peepers felt him press his forehead on his shoulder, more damp than before. "It's—" he sighed, "it's really nice. And um," he laughed, "I don't actually mean that in a totally selfless way either. It's uh. It's really hot, actually."

Peepers didn't react at first, a bit too overwhelmed with everything he was feeling to really absorb anything that Terry was saying.

"Ah, sorry." Terry said, chuckling nervously. "Talking too much again." He hummed with pleasure as he continued, starting to get a steady pace now.

Peepers was beside himself with feeling; Terry's hands on him, pulling him onto his cock, filling him up so deep and so, _so_ good, his own cock swollen and rubbing against the bed with each thrust, his face burning, gasps, whines, and moans coming out of him without his say-so, Terry's warm, breathy moans behind him—it was all so...

He couldn't help but cry out now—every time Terry thrust into him, a jolt of pleasure would rush through him that was sending him closer and closer to the edge. He wasn't even being properly _touched_ , but that didn't seem to matter to his cock, which he could see was straining against the bed, leaking with pre-cum.

He could feel Terry's breath come a bit quicker on him now, his sounds a bit huskier, and with it, his pace had started to quicken, his hands bringing Peepers to him with more and more force. Peepers could feel himself on the edge, close but not close enough. He couldn't help but arch back into Terry, pressing into him as deep as he could go. Terry gasped when Peepers did this, his grip tightening on his hips.

“Zreb, Peepers, I—” he choked out, slowing down again, which brought an _embarrassingly_ desperate whine out of Peepers. “I ffforgot to ask if you’d, uh...whether or not you’d want me to come inside you...?”

“What? I…” Peepers breathed, wrenched out of his erotic haze.

“Hold on, I…” Terry said, starting to pull out. “I should stop so you can think, I don't want you to feel pressured into anything.”

“ _Please,_ ” Peepers whined, immediately grabbing Terry and holding him in place.

He audibly groaned into his pillow in embarrassment at what he just did. Who even _was_ he anymore?!

“I don't need to think, you can come inside, just don't _stop_ ,” he said into the pillow.

“You...sure? That's what you want?” Terry asked, still infuriatingly motionless.

“ _YES already!_ ” He half groaned, half whined, trying to press Terry into him again. All shame was gone at this point. He was ready to feel it, whatever it was like. He didn't even care if it was _gross_ at this point. He _wanted_ it, and he, he was _Commander fucking Peepers_ , so he’d _get_ it!!!

Terry chuckled, breathless. “Youuu got it, boss.”

Peepers whined loudly as Terry started up again, his hand immediately going back to grip at the pillow. It wasn't long before he was back on that precipice again, teetering but never going over—he would have thought something this tenuous would be more frustrating, but honestly...he sort of loved it??

Terry's breath came hot and heavy on his neck as his movements started to get more erratic. Terry moaned, reached in front of Peepers, and before he could comprehend what he was doing, his hand was on him, stroking him quick and _stupidly_ well.

There was quite literally nothing Peepers could do or think—with a handful of swift motions, he was completely and utterly swept away, farther gone than he had ever been. It was incredible, it was ridiculous, it was everything, and grop it felt stupid. So, so stupidly, impossibly good.

Terry sounded strained as he thrust into him, hard and firm, one, two, three more times, before moaning as he came, Peepers hyper-aware of the warmth and way his cock throbbed inside him.

Terry's hand felt slightly weaker on him now but it didn't matter, Peepers was already so close that it was a matter of seconds before he was coming as well. He thought he vaguely heard a small moan behind him as he came but he couldn't be sure, he was too busy having one of the best orgasms of his life—the feeling of a cock deep inside him sending intense thrills of pleasure through him unlike anything he has ever experienced before. He felt Terry's hand lazily slow as he came down from the peak of it.

He could still vaguely feel Terry's cock throbbing inside him, softened bit by bit, and Peepers was suddenly and powerfully _overwhelmed_ with exhaustion.

He felt a hand on his back as Terry slowly pulled out, and as he did so, Peepers realized just how slimy he felt. Some small part of his mind was aghast at how gross it was, but that part was significantly overpowered, outnumbered, and outgunned by how _content_ he felt in that moment.

He felt Terry's head lean against the back his neck and felt the ghost of a sigh brush across him.

“That was...really nice,” he heard him say.

“Mm,” Peepers hummed in sleepy agreement.

They laid there together for a moment, breathing calmly in the quiet, air conditioned room.

“By the way…” Terry said softly, breaking the silence. “You're um...probably going to be a bit sore for the next few days.”

“Mm…” Peepers hummed, acknowledging him. His mind had taken on a pleasant, tired fuzziness that dulled his thoughts. He’d deal with it tomorrow.

They laid still for another few minutes. After a while, Terry finally sighed and sat up, startling Peepers out of light sleep.

“Well, I have a shift to catch,” Terry said groggily, breathing in deep and lightly slapping the side of his face to wake himself up.

Peepers blearily watched him over his shoulder as Terry got up and got dressed. Sucks to be him.

Peepers shivered as a chill blew across him and promptly got himself under the covers, snuggling up close to his pillow.

He was nearly asleep when he heard Terry say “Good night,” in a quiet sing-song.

“Mm,” Peepers hummed, easily slipping into unconsciousness as heard the electric door slide closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reminder: practice safe sex! use condoms! we may not have written them in this but that doesn't mean it's fine in real life to not use them! be safe!


	7. The Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (CW for alcohol)

Terry and his friends were hanging out in the break room before work. They still had a few hours to kill and had yet to get breakfast, so, after they all checked their shifts, they all settled down in some of the couches that were still open. Terry was comfortably lounging in the middle seat of a sofa, between two of his friends. They were all chatting lightly amongst each other for a while when the tone had shifted.

“Ya know, guys...ever since Westley got blasted into space—grop rest his soul—I've been thinking a lot about how maybe we all ought to appreciate each other a bit more," one watchdog, Jerome, had said.

They all nodded, solemnly. It had been a week since the ceremony had been held for the occasion, and ever since, the entire ship had been in a very somber mood. It had affected everyone in different ways. Mostly bomb safety awareness.

Terry hadn't known the guy, but he knew people who knew of him, and that was enough.

He had never been concerned for his own safety as long as he’d worked on the ship, but being reminded of the fact that some people could get still hurt was sobering. Even if he didn’t know any soldiers personally, some of his friends did. Usually no one ever got seriously hurt, that he knew of, so this whole Westley thing had felt a little unreal.

"Like Arnold,” Jerome continued, putting a hand on the watchdog seated next to him. “I don't think I appreciate you enough, buddy. You mean a lot to me."

"Aww..." Arnold sniffed. "You mean the world to me too, bro." He reached over and hugged him and the rest of them all cooed.

"Maybe we should all take time out of our days to really show our appreciation for one another," Louis, who was sitting next to Terry, suggested.

"I feel like I already do that all the time though..." Rick said, leaning back in the recliner he had managed to snag.

"Well there's gotta be somebody you never think to say anything to... what about the laundry workers?"

"Ohh yeah, good point!" Jerome said. “There are probably loads of guys on the ship that hardly ever get appreciated!”

"Yea, like those guys that do all the dishes and stuff!" Arnold added.

“Maintenence workers?” Rick suggested.

“Yeah!” Louis said excitedly. “Exactly! Who else?”

“Well, I should probably give my mom a call...” Douglas said quietly from Terry’s other side.

"Wait, guys, I know who!" said Arnold.

"What? Who?" They all looked at him.

"Lord Hater!"

All of them ohhhh'd at once. Then Rick said:

"Well...wait, but we do kinda chant his name and say how great he is, like, all the time.”

"Yeah...plus like, we put up statues of him... and our uniforms' iconography is like, based on him?" Douglas added, pointing to the little lightning bolt on his shirt.

"Oh yeah, that's true..." Louis leaned back into the couch, thinking.

There were a few beats of silence between them.

"Well...what about Commander Peepers?" Douglas said.

Terry tried his best to make sure his expression remained neutral.

Rick cringed. “Commander Peepers…?”

"Yeah! Maybe we should do something nice for him!" Louis said.

"Do we have to...? He's like...really scary..." he mumbled.

"Random acts of kindness don't exclude scary people!” Louis said, wagging his finger. “Besides, now that I think about it, I don't think I've ever seen anyone show him any kind of appreciation before, not even Hater!"

They all mumbled in agreement, including Terry. It was hard not to notice how little Lord Hater seemed to care about his second in command.

"Okay, but what exactly can we even do for him? I doubt he'd react well if any of us went up and tried to like...compliment him or something," Rick said, sitting forward on his chair.

"Mmm well...we could always give him a gift? You can't get mad at a gift!" Arnold said happily.

"That's true…” Rick replied, pensive. “Although...knowing Peepers, he'd be the one person that would."

"Well...we should still try! Right?" Louis said.

“Could we give it to him anonymously...?” Rick asked.

“Eh…” Douglas said, putting a thoughtful hand to his face, “That would be nice, but if we just left it for him somewhere with his name on it, I don’t know that it’d end up in his hands…”

“Yeah, true, I don’t trust any of the fools on this ship,” Rick said, eyeing the other watchdogs in the room that weren’t involved in the conversation. “Oh uh, except you guys of course,” he amended.

“We would have to give it to him in person, then.” Louis said. “We could all go as a group!”

Terry swallowed. If he approached Peepers in public…that would be...um...bad.

Maybe if he just stuck to the back, Peepers wouldn’t see him? Oh jeez.

He started considering escape plans. He could probably just help with the planning and then make up some excuse so he didn’t have to join the actual gifting. He still wanted to help, he just didn’t want to mess anything up with him and Peepers.

"Then it's settled!” Louis said, snapping Terry out of his reverie. “Now...what should we get him?"

The group fell silent.

Terry looked around, guilty that he felt as unsure as his friends looked. He really should have at least somewhat of an idea considering he’d spent so much time with him now. Peepers just always seemed so put-together… What didn’t he have?? What sort of material possessions would he even want?

He leaned back and crossed his arms. He could think of something, he was sure.

They were all silent for what felt like ages before someone finally spoke up.

"What does he even like??" Arnold moaned, despondent.

Jerome snapped suddenly, lifting his head and startling everyone.

"A clipboard!" he called out.

"What?” Rick said. “That's a terrible present!"

"Well, I don't know! Maybe he'd love it! Maybe he's been dying to get a new clipboard for years and if we got him one, it'd be the perfect present!"

"Somehow...I really doubt that."

"What about a nice tie?” Douglas suggested.

"Shoe polish?" chimed in someone else.

"A stapler! One of those fancy automatic ones!"

"Anger management lessons?"

"A clown figurine!"

“Okay, okay, these are all terrible,” Rick said, quieting everyone. “Let’s try something else. What do we know about him?”

“He’s a commander,” Arnold said instantly. Jerome shoved him.

“He’s angry all the time?” Louis tried. They all nodded.

“Maybe we could get him one of those stress balls,” said Douglas.

Jerome sighed. “He’d probably destroy it within a day.”

“We know he jacks it once a year?” Rick said.

Louis started. “Wait, WHAT?”

The group laughed as Louis stared wide-eyed at Rick.

“Right, right you’re new here!” Rick chuckled, “Yeah, so, okay. We all managed to figure out that Commander Peepers, leader of our entire ‘indomitable’ watchdog army, never, ever jacks it. Not once. Except...for one time, every year.”

Terry couldn’t help the smile that crept on his face as he listened to Rick recount this particularly strange piece of watchdog gossip.

“So, every year, leading up to this one day, I forget the exact date,” Rick said, leaning forward dramatically, “Commander Peepers sends out these special memos. He tells everyone that he will be spending the evening working in his room, but that on this day specifically, absolutely no one is to ‘interrupt’ him...or they’ll face...‘extreme consequences.’” He added dramatic finger quotes.

“He spends the rest of the night in there,” he said, leaning back into his chair and shrugging, “and well, he’s so high-strung, we all kinda figured…”

“He must be jackin’ it,” Louis finished with an understanding nod.

“Exactly. Actually...that day is coming up, now that I think about it. Maybe we should get him lube?”

Douglas laughed. “If you wanna be the one to hand him that bottle, you be my guest.”

Terry held back a chuckle. He remembered how incredulous he had been the first time he had learned about that widely known "fact" about the army's commander. He never put much thought into it since it didn’t really seem like his business, but it did sort of baffle him. It didn’t come as much of a surprise when it turned out to be untrue, but knowing the real truth definitely made the whole thing a lot funnier than it had been before.

“Okay, okay,” Louis said, trying to get everyone back on topic, “But what does Peepers actually like, you guys?”

“Besides edging,” Rick muttered, loud enough to illicit a laugh from everyone in the group.

"Lord Hater…?” Jerome tried through his own giggles.

“Ohhhh yeah, that’s true!” Rick said. “We could try Lord Hater merch?”

"Yeah, that’s good!!" Arnold said, smiling at him.

"You don't think he might already have that...?” Terry asked cautiously, “I mean there is a gift shop on the ship..."

"Oh yeah, huh…” Louis replied and nodded. “Better safe than sorry.”

"What do you think we should get then, Terry?” Jerome asked. “I don’t think you’ve suggested anything yet."

It was actually really nice seeing all his friends thinking of Peepers like this. Most of the time when they spoke of him, it wasn't exactly in the highest regard. So yes, he wanted to encourage it! But...he was still sort of afraid to suggest anything himself. He didn’t want to get it wrong and end up being at fault for a bad gift. But he didn’t want to suggest anything too specific and raise suspicions.

"He seems sorta high-strung?" he tried, "So uh, maybe something to help with that!"

"Hm...like what?"

He hummed in thought. He did know Peepers better than anyone else in the room, so he ought to come up with something. He attempted thinking through it again…What would he want? What does he like? What does he need?

The first answer that popped in his head was: ‘he needs to relax’.

Well, that much was obvious. He had gathered that their hook-ups every week were essentially intended as something to get Peepers' mind off of work, but aside from that, he wasn't aware of anything that Peepers ever did for himself that could possibly constitute as a real break. He only ever saw him working, so…

"Maybe like..." he said, "a coupon for a...resort or spa or something? That could be nice."

Several gasps were heard.

"That's PERFECT!" Louis said.

“And we could hide it in an envelope so he couldn’t get immediately mad at us seeing some sort of gift box!” Douglas said.

“Where though??” Jerome asked, looking around at everyone. “Does anyone know any good ones?”

The momentum of the room halted. You could practically hear the crickets.

“Well...we always have the internet!” Terry said, shrugging.

“Yeah!!” several yelled in unison.

“Let’s head to one of the briefing rooms so we can print it up!”

“Yeah!!” they yelled again, all getting up and heading to one of the nearest ones.

“Okay so, we’re all going as a group right?” Louis asked as they half-jogged down the hall. They all cheered the affirmative except Terry, who was about to say he needed to go back to his cubby or that he was feeling sick or some other excuse—but Louis continued.

“Okay, so that’s cool and all, but someone's gotta actually hand him the darn thing!”

“Not it!” someone shouted immediately.

They all started individually shouting ‘not it’, Terry joining in in a panic, unsure if he had actually said it in time. Grop, he really needed to get out of there.

“Wait, wait,” Louis said before they could figure out who said it last. “Terry! Terry should be the one to give it to him! He's the one who came up with it!”

“What?! No, no I—”

“Yeah, and Terry’s super nice! If Peepers is gonna react well to anyone, it'd be Terry!” Rick said.

“Yeah, Terry should do it!”

Several of them started supplying their own agreement.

“Wait, guys, no, hold on—” Terry tried, attempting to slow down. No one would believe any of his excuses now, he realized with horror.

“You’re our hero, Terry! No one could do it better than you!” Louis said, patting him on the back.

“Terry, Terry, Terry!” Rick started chanting happily, pushing him along from behind as the others joined in.

“Don't worry buddy,” Douglas said quietly, nudging him with a smile, “we'll have your back!”

They flurried him down the hall, Terry’s anxiety skyrocketing with every step.

 

* * *

 

Lord Hater had slept in and it was past dinnertime. They were currently in the food court so that he could get something to eat while Peepers talked at him, getting him up to speed on myriad of things he had done during the day. He occasionally had to snap Hater awake as he read aloud from his binder, where he had kept rigorous notes, as well as the ship’s log.

He eventually gave up and let him be, though, knowing that be best to try again later when Hater was properly awake. (Plus he still wanted to try out a new method for his briefings. He needed him alert and ready for that.)

He was on his way out of the food court when he heard a watchdog call out to him.

"Hey, Commander Peepers! Sir?"

When Peepers turned to address him, his heart stopped.

A small group of them had approached, about six or seven, and right in the front of the group, dead center...was Terry.

It hadn't been Terry who had called out to him, he would have recognized his voice, but it was definitely Terrence Matthews standing before him, there was no mistaking that iris. He was sweating bullets, gripping tightly onto an envelope he held at his side with his eye locked on Peepers, his shoulders high and tense.

Peepers had opened his mouth to address the watchdog who had called him, but now the words were lost in his throat. He felt like he couldn't move, his feet glued to the spot. He knew to fear the worst, but in that moment, his brain couldn't even comprehend what the worst might even be—he couldn't think of anything other than panic.

One of the watchdogs nudged Terry, stage whispering, "Go on, dude."

"Right, uh!" Terry glanced at the watchdog next to him and then down at the envelope. He held it out in front of him, gesturing with it, as he spoke to a spot somewhere off to the left of Peepers head. "So, yeah, um—Well, a bunch of the guys—um, I mean uh, us watchdogs, decided to—er I mean, well, we thought it might be a good, or uh, a nice thing to do, to like, show our appreciation, of you uh, being our...commander. Or. Um." Terry dragged a hand down his face and looked up at the ceiling for a moment as he let out an incredibly strained chuckle. Some of the other watchdogs looked at each other, concerned and confused.

"Um! Lemme start over. So. We all got together and decided we ought to show our appreciation for you, our boss, because you're such a great boss, and we all appreciate you, and wanna show it, and thought this might be a good way to show it. Show that we appreciate you, I mean, all of us, because you're our boss, and we thought it'd be nice, to um...do...that. Uh."

He stopped and looked down at Peepers' feet. He looked like a kid trying remember his lines and coming up empty.

The watchdogs on either side of him nudged him.

"You need to give it to him."

"Give him the present, dude."

Terry straightened up. "Right! Uh." He held out the envelope, which Peepers could now see had a smiley face sticker sealing it shut. "We all pitched in. It's uh—it's a voucher for a free spa trip. We, um, thought you might like it."

Peepers glanced between Terry and the envelope for a moment. He swallowed, kept his expression neutral, reached out, and took it.

"Terry's being too modest, it was mostly his idea!" one of the watchdogs said.

"Yeah, we were all trying to come up with stuff you might like and he said you probably needed to relax!" a watchdog in the back chipped in.

"HAHA!" Terry laugh-yelled. "Yeah um! We all thought you might enjoy it! Funny though, we weren't actually sure which spa to choose, since, ya know, it's a big galaxy, and there are so many places to chose from, and a lot of them are great! But not all of them are great, even though a lot of them are. And uh, not all of them were quite within our price range, and also! Not all of them offer vouchers or gift certificates—it's actually funny, none of us were quite sure what the difference between a voucher and a gift certificate was, we had to look it up, and even after looking it up we still weren't entirely—"

"GREAT!" Peepers yelled, startling the watchdogs and silencing Terry. "Great," he repeated at a lower volume. "...Thank you. Now get back to work."

"We were actually on our breakfa—" one of them tried to say before Peepers interrupted, flailing his arms.

"BACK TO WORK!"

And with that, the watchdogs scrambled—including Terry—and left Peepers in the crowd of the food court.

He stood there for a moment, panting despite himself. Once he shook himself right, once again made his way out of the food court, taking off in a very brisk, but still professional and totally not alarming walk back to his room, unthinkingly shoving the envelope into the front pocket of the binder he still had gripped tight in his other hand.

When his door shut behind him, Peepers heart rate was through the roof. He ripped his phone out of his pocket, swiped away several notifications, went straight to Terry's contact, and pressed 'call' without another thought.

He listened to his own breathing as the dial tone rang. He knew it was reckless to call him on the phone, he had never done so before, but he could not care less at the moment.

Terry picked up after the 4th ring.

"Peepers, I'm so sorry," he heard in a rushed hush. "I didn't—"

"Don't," Peepers snarled, "say my name. Someone could hear you."

"I'm sorry! I’m sorry, no one's around, but I'm sorry, I won't, I just, I—all of that, I just—"

"You can explain yourself later, just get to my room now,” he spat. “And don't fall over yourself on the way here," he added with biting sarcasm, and hung up.

Peepers squeezed the phone in his hand and pressed it against his face. He could feel his heartbeat thudding in his ears as he leaned against the door of his room. His mind and breath tried to play catch up as he thought through it all.

They had interacted in person. In front of other people. In public.

This was never supposed to happen. This was, in fact, the opposite of what was ever supposed to happen. They were never supposed to see each other outside of his room, that was the whole point! They were supposed to be strangers to each other on the outside! Interacting in person meant that the alibi that they shared, the one that was keeping Peepers’ job protected, would vanish! If anyone ever had any suspicions, now they had ground to stand on, Peepers thought, his knuckles going white under his gloves.

And besides all that, Peepers had no idea what that interaction even meant. When he replayed it in his head, he remembered Terry saying something about boss appreciation or something...but that didn't tell him much of anything in terms of what anyone knew or suspected. He didn't know why they really came up to him, or why Terry was with them, or anything that led up to it or followed! Sure, it wasn't like they all came up to him asking about his and Terry's sex life, and it wasn’t likely they knew, but who's to say they didn't! Maybe they did!!!! The way Terry looked during that whole ordeal was not reassuring, and it didn't instill a whole lot of confidence that things weren't really flarpin' dire, so who could really say!!!

Even if they didn’t know before, it was likely that after all that, suspicions had at least been raised. There was no way Terry was able to adequately cover his ass after a display like that. Peepers just needed to find out how bad things really were.

 

* * *

 

Terry scrambled out of the janitorial closet he had been hiding in, shoved his phone back into his pocket, and made a mad dash to Peepers' room. As he skid through empty halls, he desperately tried to ignore his wrecked nerves in order to properly recall shift schedules and safe routes.

Honestly, the running sort of helped the panic response he was dealing with. Fight-or-flight had taken hold, just a little bit, so tricking his body into thinking he was running away from something instead of towards it did him some good.

He halted in front of a elevator and jabbed the "up" button several times, watching the numbers slowly tick down to the floor he was on. His heartbeat pounded loudly in his ears as he caught his breath. He took several gulps of air, exhaling slowly, and tried to calm himself down a little.

The elevator pinged softly and Terry breathed a sigh of relief, stepping in and selecting the floor Peepers' room was on.

He knew he messed up. He knew how important anonymity was to Peepers, and even if he didn't necessarily share the same concerns as him, he respected them. Or at least he'd tried to.

Maybe he should have just ran before the whole thing popped off?? No, that would have been terrible too. Grop, but he could have done something. Something besides absolutely losing it like that, in front of everyone. Terry didn't blame Peepers for being mad, not one bit. This was a certified screw up, no matter which way you sliced it. He was confident things would be alright in terms of their relationship remaining a secret, but…would the relationship itself survive this? Would Peepers want to keep their arrangement up after he messed up like that?

Terry was kicking himself over the whole thing, kicking himself for not coming up with a good enough excuse, for not slowing his friends down, for absolutely losing it when he finally saw Peepers in the food court and started babbling... He really needed to calm down, and hopefully not babble as much when he was alone in his room with him.

He breathed in, and out, trying to remind himself that if things did end, that'd be okay. It'd suck, but it'd be okay. And as much as he was freaking out over his own mistake, he had no doubt Peepers was at least twice as freaked out right now. All he could do now was try to apologize for the whole mess as best as he could and show Peepers that everything was as fine as he could make it. He could only hope that’d be enough.

Another "ping" of the elevator brought Terry back out of his thoughts. He sucked in a deep breath, and continued his run to Peepers' room, finally skidding to a halt in front of his door. His hands shook as he typed in the password. Maybe he should work out more, if that’s all it takes for him to get this worn out. When the door slid open, Terry started. Peepers was right there, not even a foot away, and he jumped back, also seemingly startled.

“Peepers," he said after coming to his senses, rushing in and letting the door slide closed behind him. "Peepers, I'm so sorry—"

"What WAS that?!" Peepers yelled immediately, speaking over him. Terry cringed.

"I promise I didn't mean to—" he started.

"I'm never supposed to see you outside this room—"

"Listen, I really tried to get out of it I just—"

"You KNOW the importance of us not being seen together, so what WAS that, Terry?? Did you somehow forget my job is on the line here?!"

"No, of—of course not,” he said, desperate, “I know how important it is! I—"

"Then WHY?! Why would you do something like that?!"

"I’m sorry I—I couldn't stop them! I did the best I could I swear, but I couldn't—”

“Do you know what could happen to me now?!”

“No, listen, Peepers, I promise no one knows anything—"

"Oh really?! How can you be so sure?!” Peepers yelled, flailing his arms above him. “Because after what I just saw, I don't know how anyone could have any doubt that we know each other. You acted like a total buffoon!!"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry,” Terry said, and he felt regret crumple his face, “I just got so nervous, I really didn't mean to—"

"Why were you even there in the first place?! It was obviously premeditated; you knew where I was and you had," Peepers struggled to flip open the binder he held in his hand and pull the envelope out, "you had this ready to give to me!" He shook it in Terry face.

"Yeah, but—I mean we only came up with the idea this morning—"

"So it was your idea?!"

"No! I mean, it..." Terry struggled. "It wasn't my idea to get you a present,” he explained, “and it definitely wasn't my idea to give it to you in person like that. I just came up with what the gift actually was, but I swear that's it, everything else was the rest of them."

“Why didn’t you TEXT ME then?!! Give me a warning?!” Peepers shouted.

“I did!!”

“No you didn't!!” Peepers screamed, yanking out his phone, “I did not get a single...”

Peepers frantically tapped his phone. He blinked.

“I...oh…” he said quietly.

Terry watched as read through the messages.

“My phone must've not…given off any notifications.”

Terry shrugged sadly. “I assumed you must’ve just been too busy or something.”

“Yes.” Peepers put his phone back in his pocket, looked away, and huffed.

"Fine, but, at any point,” he continued, “you didn't accidentally let it slip that you knew me somehow...?"

Terry shook his head resolutely, "No."

Peepers glared at him and tapped his foot.

"So why'd you go along with it then? Why were you involved at all??"

"I mean, it was everyone…” Terry explained, “We were all talking about like, appreciating each other, in general, and we started talking about, like, showing appreciation to people on the ship who don't get much acknowledgement for the work they do, and your name came up and... I don't know, everyone just started naturally talking about giving you a gift or something and I tried to get out of it, but I couldn't without just straight up running away…and I knew doing something like that would seem out of character for me, so I ended up just, trying to make up excuses. But none of them would take." He shrugged and looked sadly at Peepers.

Peepers looked back at him for a moment, then sighed, exasperated.

"Okay, so what about after that horrible display? How did you possibly explain that to the rest of them?"

"Well," Terry said, "I mean, they definitely thought it was really weird. But, after I explained that I was just really nervous because you’re my boss, they pretty much just...bought it." He shrugged.

"Are you sure?" Peepers asked, leaning in.

He nodded "Yeah."

“How can you be sure?”

“I mean…I guess…” He sighed and looked down at his feet. “I guess I can’t be one hundred percent sure. I’m sorry. I did the best I could.”

That was it. That was all he could do or say. Whether or not it was good enough was up to Peepers. And he wouldn’t blame him if it wasn’t.

Peepers was silent for a while.

Terry kept his eye down, preparing himself for the worst.

“Grop,” Peepers said abruptly.

Terry looked up and saw him staring off towards his closet, weariness on his face.

“I need a drink,” he sighed.

Terry laughed once, strained. “Yeah...that’d be nice.”

Without another word, Peepers walked over to his closet and pulled out a small step stool. He set it up and climbed to the top, reaching up into the darkness, presumably into some unseen top shelf above his rack of uniforms. Terry’s eye widened as he watched Peepers pull out what looked like a strange looking bottle of...wine? It wasn’t quite the right shape or color but it was very obviously some kind of liquor.

“Wait, you have alcohol?” Terry asked before he could stop himself, “What even...is that?” He looked at the strange curves of the bottle. Definitely nothing he had seen before.

“Kreegan nectar,” Peepers responded lazily, “I picked some up while we were there a few months ago. The invasion was going horribly so I thought I’d stop by one of their special garden markets and pick some up. It’s universally renowned, apparently.” Held it out towards Terry. “Want some?”

“Oh...uh…” Terry faltered. He had work soon. “Um. I mean, it is sorta the morning for me…”

Peepers rolled his eye. “Do you want it or not?”

“Um…” After a moment of hesitance, he shrugged. “Heh, yeah, sure.”

Peepers reached into the closet again and pulled out two stout glasses before climbing back down and heading to his desk. Terry followed.

“I do have go to work in a little bit so I shouldn’t have too much…”

A small puff of colored smoke distracted him as it burst out of the bottle when Peepers took the top off. Peepers seemed unsurprised by it but Terry couldn’t help exclaiming his amazement with a “Whoa, cool!”, watching the smoke dissipate in the air between them.

“I don’t care if you’re late,” Peepers said flatly as he started pouring their drinks.

“Really? You?”

Peepers made a noncommittal sound and handed Terry his glass.

“It’s not like it’d matter much.”

“It’d matter to my supervisor,” Terry pointed out.

Peepers rolled his eye and leaned against the desk behind him. “I’m your commander. I’m pretty sure I outrank him.”

Terry laughed, Peepers’ small joke doing wonders on his frayed nerves.

“Aw, you’d do that for me?” Terry asked. There was a flirtatious edge to his tone that he hadn’t exactly intended and immediately hoped Peepers wouldn’t notice.

Peepers sighed wearily and didn’t look back at him as he replied, “Terry, I’m tired.”

“Heh, sorry.”

Terry cautiously tried a small sip of the strange, semi-transparent, purplish liquid. It was...very odd. It had a bitter foundation like hard alcohol, but...it was also a bit sweet? He hadn’t noticed it on the first sip but once he did, it became much more prominent, almost overpowering any of the other flavor. That was fine, though. He tended to like sweet stuff.

“Huh! This pretty good.”

“They distill it from the gargantua flowers they have on their planet,” Peepers explained. He took a sip and made a face as his glass. “It’s not as great as I thought it’d be... Kind of overhyped.”

Terry took another measured sip, already growing more fond of it.

“I can understand why people might like it,” he said, shrugging.

Peepers looked at his drink for a moment in thought before suddenly raising his glass and swallowing the rest of it down.

“It would be better cold,” he remarked hoarsely, setting his glass down. “Too bad I don't have anything to make or store ice with in here.”

“Yeah…” Terry said, looking around. “Hey, maybe that's what we shoulda gotten you, huh?”

Peepers grimaced, but thankfully there was a hint of humor to it.

“Really though, a voucher?” he asked. “Do you honestly believe I’d ever have time to use something like that?”

“Maybe someday! It'd be good for you to take a vacation, I think.”

“Pfft, as if,” Peepers said. “Lord Hater couldn't handle one day without me here. I run this ship, it would fall apart without me here. I can’t take a...vacation.” He used air quotes around the final word.

“Not even a tiny one?” Terry asked.

Peepers shook his head. “I can barely take a five minute break. Lord Hater is…” He paused, seeming to pick his words carefully. “Well, he’s...capable. He does what he does well, and obviously we would be nothing without him. It’s just...sometimes...he needs me there to prod him forward.

“And obviously I’m fine with that, I consider it part of my job,” he clarified. “No one can be on the ball one hundred percent of the time. Well...except me, of course.”

Terry chuckled.

“Anyway, if I were to attempt to abdicate any of my responsibilities to Lord Hater, even for a short time…ugh...he would just get all…all...” Peepers made a vague hand gesture, trying to get across something he couldn’t put to words, but Terry knew what he was getting at.

Terry slumped himself over and lowered his voice as deep as he could. “Peeperrrrs, but I don’t wanna do any of that! That’s what I pay you for!”

Peepers looked at him in shocked silence, and for a moment Terry was worried he had taken it a step too far. But then, like something Terry had never seen before, Peepers burst into a fit of laughter. He gripped at his stomach, reaching out behind him onto the desk so as to not fall over.

“Th-that...you…pffttt,” Peepers tried to speak through his laughter, “That’s exactly…! That’s EXACTLY IT!!!”

Warmth spread through Terry’s chest as he watched him. He couldn’t help but laugh along himself.

“Hah, ohhh man,” he wiped a tear from his eye. “‘That’s what I pay you for’. Grop. You have his tone down perfect.”

“Ha ha, thank you!”

Terry was positively glowing. It always felt good making people laugh, but Peepers? This was an accomplishment.

Peepers sighed. “Mm...I’ve never been to a spa, you know.”

“Neither have I! It sounds interesting. I’m not sure if I’d like it or not, though.”

Peepers glanced at him.

“You can keep it if you want,” he said.

“What? No, no,” Terry said, shaking his head “we got it for you! I don’t think it expires anyway, so who knows. Maybe you’ll get a chance to use it sometime.”

“Unlikely,” Peepers said. “...Maybe I could sell it?”

“I mean...I guess! It’s yours, so you can do whatever you want with it. You could always regift it,” Terry suggested.

“Regift it?” Peepers made a face. “To who?”

“Mm I don’t know…” He pretended to think for a moment, tapping the side of his glass. “Lord Hater?”

Peepers made even more of a face. “Lord Hater?? You think I should give a spa gift to…wait.” Peepers stopped for a moment, frozen in thought.

“I know who I should give it to,” he whispered.

Terry blinked in surprise. “Who?”

Peepers frowned at him, pulled away from his thoughts.

“What? None of your business,” he snapped.

“Oh. Sorry.”

Peepers looked at him and seemed to consider something for a moment before adding, “It’s no one you know.”

“Oh, okay… Uh, well, either way, I hope whoever gets it likes it!”

“Oh, she will.”

Peepers eye widened like he had maybe said too much. He whipped around and started refilling his glass.

“Do you want any more of this?” he asked, spilling a bit onto the desk.

“Ah...I would, but…” Terry looked at his glass, which still had a bit left in it. “I probably should get going? My shift’s already started by now.”

Peepers rolled his eye. “Terry, honestly, I don’t care. You’re one watchdog, it’s not going to make a difference. Just call in sick. Heck, that’ll probably help excuse your behavior earlier anyway.”

“Yeah that is true...” He didn’t really like lying if he could avoid it… Though it wouldn’t be a complete lie, since he genuinely had felt sick during that whole ordeal. No one had to know it had been from anxiety. He shrugged.

“Yeah okay!” he said, and held out his glass for Peepers.

“Might as well make use of this stuff,” Peepers said as he refilled his cup. “I’m definitely not going to be buying anymore of it.”

“That’s too bad,” Terry said. He took a swig and sighed happily. “I really like it.”

Terry absently wondered how far he’d have to travel to get some of his own.


	8. The Temple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY YALL I'M...SO SORRY IT'S BEEN SO LONG. i was mostly in charge of this chapter and, because i am an utter Fool, it took forever. also we are on vacation, so i got even worse. i'm so sorry, but please, accept this chapter as an apology...  
> thank you to everyone who's been sticking with us through all of this ;;___;; i'm grateful every single day for every kudo and comment and view we get...you're all so kind to us!! thank you for everything!!!  
> talk to ya later!
> 
> \--case
> 
> Hey everyone! Like Case said, and like you might have seen on my blog update, we've been on vacation with our good good friend and haven't had much free time to work on the fic. But!! Don't fear! We are still just as committed to this as we always have been. In fact, there's another chapter that I've already written a large amount of so that hopefully(!!!) will come out soon!! We will work on it as much as possible with the little bits of time we get to do so. 
> 
> We got some lovely fanart from [creativeentity](http://creativeentity.tumblr.com/post/162930770855/i-really-wanted-to-draw-this-scene-in-chapter-7-of) of the last chapter, which I love love love. Apart from that, me and case have ALSO been makin' some non-written content for both this fic and woy in general. If you'd like to check it out, go to our art blogs [artsyferretlee](http://artsyferretlee.tumblr.com) and [deerlydoodles](http://deerlydoodles.tumblr.com)! We sometimes blog about fic-related stuff on [our](http://aferretlee.tumblr.com) [mains](http://sincerelydeerly.tumblr.com) as well!
> 
> This chapter is a bit different than usual so I hope y'all enjoy it!! Let us know in the comments!! :~)
> 
> \--Hannah

[21:42] Terry: everything is locked up like you asked

[22:03] Terry: is everything okay?

[22:03] Terry: i didn't really catch everything you were saying...something about lord hater? and scheduling?

[22:18] Terry: hope everything's okay!

[22:20] Terry: let me know if you want me to come over later or something

[23:19] Peepers: No, you definitely won't need to come over later. I'm probably going to be out all night.

[23:20] Terry: oh no :( so wait whats going on?

[23:24] Peepers: I had a plan all set for tomorrow but Lord Hater couldn't wait and ended up jump starting the whole thing. I couldn't really stop him, so here I am.

[23:24] Terry: oh jeez... and wheres “here”?

[23:26] Peepers: Well, I had been doing some research on this thing called the “Scythe of Scyinthianus”. It's said to be a weapon of mass destruction created in the fiery forges of the planet Scynthor. So...that's where I am.

[23:27] Terry: oh wow i didn't even notice we docked anywhere

[23:27] Terry: you okay down there?

[23:27] Peepers: I'm fine. I mean, it's excruciatingly hot, but I'm fine. 

[23:28] Terry: so ur there for a weapon?

[23:30] Peepers: Allegedly a very powerful one. The myths claimed it could obliterate entire systems, but I think that’s a tad far-fetched. The weapon itself does exist though, and could still be very powerful. Of course, nearly anything in the hands of Lord Hater can be powerful.

[23:31] Terry: well...he is a big scary electrical skeleton man!

[23:32] Peepers: He's much more than that, Terry. You know you're supposed to essentially worship him as a god, right? He's almighty. He should be much more to you than just a “big scary skeleton”. 

[23:33] Terry: well i know he's the guy who signs my pay checks!

[23:33] Terry: idk i guess i always kinda got the vibe everyone here sorta sees him like how ppl see sports stars? which i guess is…sort of a way of deifying him? less intense but still very passionate

[23:34] Peepers: You just haven't seen him in action before. 

[23:34] Terry: no i guess not! you do all the time tho right?

[23:34] Peepers: Obviously. 

[23:34] Terry: must be pretty cool to see! 

[23:41] Terry: ...you there?

[23:45] Peepers: It's...incredibly inspiring.

[23:45] Terry: :)

[23:46] Peepers: So, what are you doing?

[23:46] Terry: sending you a smiley?

[23:47] Peepers: ...You know that's not what I meant.

[23:47] Terry: heh sorry. im just heading out for my shift!

[23:47] Peepers: I see.

[23:49] Terry: what’re YOU doin?

[23:49] Peepers: Absolutely nothing.

[23:50] Terry: oh is it a secret?

[23:50] Peepers: No, I'm literally doing absolutely nothing. I've just been waiting outside this stupid temple for ages.

[23:51] Terry: temple? why?

[23:53] Peepers: The Scythe is hidden deep within an ancient temple and can only be accessed once you've made your way through and proven your worth or whatever, but it comes complete with a trial that can only be done alone, which I hadn't anticipated. Lord Hater ran in before I could figure out a workaround, and now here I am. Waiting. For the last hour or so. Grop only knows how long this is going to take.

[23:54] Terry: huh. well dang i hope he's okay. and ur there by yourself?

[23:54] Peepers: I wouldn't message you if I wasn't.

[23:55] Terry: right yeah sorry. hm...u have any games on ur phone? 

[23:55] Peepers: No.

[23:55] Peepers: Well, ok no, I do have solitaire but I hate that game.

[23:56] Terry: i was never all that good at it myself

[23:56] Peepers: Who would willingly play a game that has such a high chance of being literally unwinnable from the start?

[23:57] Terry: yeah haha good point… that's why i just have stuff like jelly drop on my phone lol

[23:57] Peepers: Well I don't have “jelly drop”, so I suppose this insipid conversation will have to do.

[23:59] Terry: hm...don't those pods have radios? maybe you could listen to some tunes!

[00:00] Peepers: I don't really listen to the radio.

[00:00] Terry: really?? why not? i'm always listening to music

[00:00] Peepers: Even on your shift?

[00:04] Terry: ah…......yyyyeah sorry about that

[00:05] Peepers: At this point, I couldn't care less.

[00:05] Peepers: You're not supposed to be texting either, and yet here we are. 

[00:08] Terry: oh right… well, anyway i tend to only listen to music when i'm on my janitorial shifts. which i'm on right now actually! hahah

[00:09] Peepers: I forgot you had those.

[00:13] Terry: yeah it's alright. i miss my friends but sometimes i'll see them on their rounds and it's kinda nice! i just plug in my headphones and let the jams carry me on through yknow

[00:14] Peepers: Not really. 

[00:14] Terry: do u not listen to anything at all?

[00:15] Peepers: Being the only commander on the ship means I don't really have much time for frivolous diversions like that.

[00:17] Terry: you could always play stuff in the background! like idk maybe instrumental stuff  
while you do all your awesome commanderly things. or maybe in the mornings u could listen to pump up music!

[00:18] Peepers: Pump up music? 

[00:19] Terry: yeah like, it can be upbeat and fun, or maybe powerful and invigorating...whatever gets you all excited and ready to take on the day, carpe diem, all that good stuff

[00:19] Peepers: Ah you mean like the music Lord Hater listens to. I'll be honest, it's not all bad, but I don't think that's the sort of thing I want to hear first thing in the morning.

[00:20] Terry: yeah i can get that. there must be something you like listening to though! 

[00:23] Peepers: I mean yeah, back when I had more time to waste, I suppose I liked whatever they would play at the local coffeehouse; classical, instrumental sort of things. I used to listen to oldies sometimes? I don't know. It's sort of been a while. 

[00:25] Terry: lol yeah all that sounds about right for you. you should let me burn u a cd! i bet i could find some stuff you'd like~

[00:26] Peepers: Ugh...I can't imagine the kind of music you listen to.

[00:28] Terry: i listen to just about anything! my friends are always giving me their favorite bands or cds to listen to and ive yet to come across anything i didn't like! i actually have a pretty big library of music back home

[00:29] Peepers: So you're completely indiscriminate! Lovely. I'm sure I can trust your judgement. Burn away!

[00:31] Peepers: That was sarcasm, by the way. Don't actually.

[00:35] Peepers: Terry? 

[00:38] Peepers: Hello…?

[00:38] Peepers: You remember that I don't care about you texting during your shift, right?

[00:45] Peepers: Grop I hate this planet. There's these bubbles in this moat near me and and every time one pops it smells terrible.

[00:45] Peepers: It's like sulfur.

[00:55] Peepers: You better not be ignoring me on purpose.

[00:56] Peepers: Ugh.

[01:01] Peepers: Whatever, fine, this conversation wasn't that interesting anyway.

[01:06] Terry: hey i'm here sorry sorry!! some of my friends stopped by and they were talking to me and i didn't want them to see my phone on accident

[01:07] Peepers: Ah, I see. Well it's not like I was waiting on you because I literally have nothing but this conversation to keep me occupied or anything. 

[01:07] Terry: this is definitely the first time i've seen you be this talkative! 

[01:07] Terry: over text, at least

[01:08] Peepers: It was either this or stare at nothing, and honestly I'm still not sure if I made the right decision. So, what were we talking about?

[01:10] Terry: music! i was talking about burning you a cd

[01:11] Peepers: Right. I still doubt I can trust your music taste.

[01:11] Peepers: You said you listen to music on your shifts, what are you listening to right now?

[01:13] Terry: hmm well rn i'm listening to this album by pickled azalea and the obvious inverse! it came out a year ago but i haven't had a chance to listen to it until now. it's really good so far!

[01:14] Peepers: ...What kind of music is it?

[01:15] Terry: um well before they did a punk rock type thing? but for this album they're being really experimental, lots of electronic, it's pretty cool

[01:15] Peepers: …I see. I don't know if would like something like that.

[01:16] Terry: well thats ok! like i said i know tooons of different music. i could put together something nice and chill for you if you want

[01:16] Peepers: You don't have to bother.

[01:16] Terry: aw but it's not a bother, i love sharing music! i really love it

[01:17] Peepers: Do you write anything?

[01:20] Terry: what music?? no way haha i'm no good.

[01:20] Terry: i tried picking up guitar when i was in high school but i sucked and ended up returning it

[01:21] Peepers: That's...surprising.

[01:22] Terry: really?

[01:22] Peepers: I don't know. You seem like the artsy type.

[01:22] Terry: do i?

[01:23] Peepers: Yeah, I don't know. Whatever. So what do you do with your free time then?

[01:25] Terry: hm idk! i like hanging out with my friends mostly. and watchdog games are always fun!

[01:26] Peepers: ...Don't tell me you participate in those.

[01:29] Terry: nah i just cheer on my friends. most of them are on teams and everyone is really intense, way more intense than i am hahah.. you should come check out our tetherball tournaments! they're so much fun

[01:30] Peepers: I think I’m good.

[01:30] Peepers: What about those...frisbee games. Don't tell me you go to those too.

[01:35] Terry: oh man you mean the ultimate tournaments??? those are even more awesome, peepers you gotta see them

[01:35] Peepers: I've caught some glimpses from the ship. They make our empire look like a joke. 

[01:36] Terry: but they're so much fun! it really boosts morale

[01:36] Peepers: Does it…?

[01:37] Terry: i mean we all love shore leave, what's better than using it to run around and play ultimate?

[01:38] Terry: not that i play but it does look like fun! i'm not fit enough to run so much tho hahah

[01:38] Peepers: You do know that all watchdogs are supposed to follow a specific exercise regimen in order to keep troops in shape?

[01:40] Terry: ...i do know about that yes

[01:41] Peepers: It's...fine. It's not like you fight. Just don't tell anyone I'm condoning it.

[01:41] Terry: u got it boss ;P

[01:44] Peepers: You know, I’ve been thinking; How would you feel about switching to a day shift?

[01:46] Terry: whoa um. idk.. i mean it'd suck to be separated from all my friends. why? are you planning on moving me…?

[01:47] Peepers: It would make things a bit more convenient! You have to admit Terry, it's not exactly sexy when you have to run off ONCE AGAIN so you're not late for the fifth time in a row.

[01:47] Terry: ah… yeah i guess you're right. i'm sorry :(

[01:48] Peepers: It's not your fault. I could have planned things better from the beginning. 

[01:48] Peepers: Listen… I could always just transfer your entire company. It'd be less suspicious anyway since I wouldn't be singling you out...plus you'd still be with your friends, I guess? It'll be a bit of extra paperwork on my end but I think it's worth it in the long run.

[01:49] Terry: oh wow uh… i mean that sounds alright by me! that's a big change though are you sure that's ok?

[01:49] Peepers: It wouldn't be the first time I've switched a group of watchdogs around. I'll just switch you with one of the more incompetent patrol companies I have on day shift. 

[01:50] Terry: i guess that sounds fine... is there more action during the day? 

[01:51] Peepers: Barring any more Wander-related fiascos, it should be just as uneventful as your night shift. Why, are you interested in more “action”?

[01:52] Terry: oh hahaha no not at all…. kinda the opposite actually

[01:53] Peepers: You… DO know you're still expected to fight if there are intruders though...right?

[01:54] Terry: um. yes! i know that, yes. 

[01:54] Peepers: Terry. 

[01:54] Terry: yes…?

[01:54] Peepers: Just...nevermind. 

[01:55] Peepers: I'll put out an order to transfer your company when I get back to the ship. 

[01:58] Terry: well i hope everyone does ok changing their sleep schedules haha

[01:59] Peepers: I'm sure you all can handle it. 

[01:59] Terry: it'll be interesting to be awake during the day for the first time in… wow, years i guess?

[02:00] Peepers: I mean, it's space. It's not like there's much difference. 

[02:02] Terry: mmm i guess… it's the spirit of it though!

[02:03] Peepers: If you say so.

[02:04] Terry: so how are things going on uh… what was it? scythanius?

[02:04] Peepers: Scynthor.

[02:04] Terry: right, scynthor.

[02:05] Peepers: Same as before. Too hot, too bright, nothing to do.

[02:06] Terry: why don't you hang out in the pod? those have air conditioning right

[02:07] Peepers: Once Lord Hater comes back out I don't want him flying off without me. He wouldn't see me if I was in the pod. 

[02:08] Terry: what if you just came back to the ship? 

[02:08] Terry: i mean it's kind of still thursday

[02:09] Terry: okay well i know it's technically friday morning now but it's space, right? 

[02:09] Peepers: Are you serious? I'm technically working right now. 

[02:09] Terry: aren't you technically always working

[02:11] Peepers: Very funny. But I’m not leaving. We have scheduled time set aside and it got interrupted and that's that. I'm not going to leave Hater stranded with no pod for some “quicky” or something. 

[02:11] Terry: sorry i didn't mean it like that! you said you didn't know when he'd be out so idk, you've been there for a while

[02:12] Peepers: I also said he could come out at any moment. Hopefully soon.

[02:12] Peepers: I don't know. Maybe I'll find some time later. It depends how all this scythe business works out. 

[02:13] Terry: no you're out late, you should take a break and relax

[02:13] Terry: maybe i should give you a massage sometime

[02:13] Peepers: What

[02:14] Terry: oh well a massage is when you like rub someone's muscles and it helps them get all loose and it feels good!

[02:15] Peepers: Oh my grop Terry I know what a massage is. I meant what do you MEAN by that? Why would you do that?

[02:16] Terry: it feels good and..i dunno i thought you might like it! i mean we do have a scheduled time to do touchy feely stuff, why not something new?

[02:16] Peepers: Ugh, it's not “touchy feely stuff”, it's sex, Terry. 

[02:16] Peepers: Wait...do you have, like, a “thing” for massages?

[02:19] Terry: what no!!! no i wouldn't be sneaky about that sort of thing that's not cool no, that's not what i mean. i meant completely non-sexy massage as in, to have a nice time, relaxing, helping you feel nice 

[02:20] Peepers: I don't know. That sounds strange. Do you even know how?

[02:21] Terry: i mean it's not too complicated, you just rub a person’s shoulders and back, i don't think it's strange i think it's nice?? or it can be nice i mean, if you don't want to do it that's totally okay it was just an offer

[02:21] Peepers: It sounds like a waste of time, but...I don't know. I guess we can try it. Just know that if you're no good, I'm putting a stop to it immediately. 

[02:22] Terry: yeah of course! i think im okay at it, i used to give shoulder rubs all the time

[02:23] Peepers: To whom?

[02:24] Terry: oh this girl i dated in college, she worked in a warehouse and would get really worn out

[02:28] Peepers: I see. And...she didn't cry out in excruciating pain or anything at any point? You didn't accidentally murder her through bad massage technique? 

[02:29] Terry: i'm pretty sure she's still alive so i think my fingers aren't cursed or anything, unless it's a long lasting curse 

[02:31] Peepers: I suppose we can only hope for the best. Although the fact that your relationship with her didn't last isn't exactly a ringing endorsement. 

[02:32] Terry: we broke up because she transferred! it was totally nice! so maybe my hands are actually… blessed? :)

[02:32] Peepers: Uh-huh. You sure she didn't just transfer to get away from you?

[02:33] Terry: nah, she was studying to be a marine biologist, which you can't do at a community level. plus we're still friends on social medias and we talk sometimes so...check mate? ‘,:)

[02:33] Peepers: Oh, whatever. So you went to a community college?

[02:34] Terry: yeah for a while! i worked too, it was alright.

[02:34] Terry: what about you?

[02:34] Peepers: I went to Goldwater.

[02:35] Terry: woah seriously?? that's incredible! 

[02:35] Peepers: Yes. 

[02:36] Terry: i only knew a couple kids from my high school got in… that's a big accomplishment. i never cared about school so that was waaayyy out of my league hah

[02:36] Peepers: You didn't care about school…?? Your school determines your future, Terry. I mean, it didn't for me, but that's just because I was better than any job Lasikia had to offer so I just forged my own path. 

[02:37] Terry: well i didn't really know what i wanted to do in my future so i was mostly putzin around

[02:38] Peepers: Hm. You sound like my brother.

[02:38] Terry: whoa wait you have a brother??

[02:39] Peepers: Um, yes...but he's not worth talking about. Let's talk about something else.

[02:40] Terry: ok well um… i have a brother too! he tried getting into goldwater too but he didn't get enough scholarship money

[02:41] Peepers: The tuition is absolutely ridiculous. I barely received enough money myself.

[02:43] Terry: that's why community college is great! me and a bunch of my friends were doing it until nearly everyone joined the army

[02:44] Peepers: You're welcome for that.

[02:45] Terry: i thought hater was the one who recruited our planet?

[02:45] Peepers: Ha! Are you kidding? He's not that competent. If it hadn't been for me, we wouldn't HAVE an army. 

[02:46] Terry: so you two knew each other before?

[02:46] Peepers: Er, no. We sort of…teamed up to create the empire you're a part of today. We didn't know each other before then.

[02:48] Terry: huh… i never really thought about where the army came from. people talked about it but mostly folks were...i mean it was weird yknow

[02:49] Peepers: No, I don't know. Weird how?

[02:50] Terry: i mean………. “come join an evil army! no big deal!”

[02:50] Terry: i don't think most people really want to be evil

[02:50] Peepers: Uh-huh. And yet you enlisted.

[02:51] Terry: well at that point most of my friends had already joined and said it wouldn't be all that bad, and i didn't have any plans so…. here i am! 

[02:51] Peepers: I don't really care why anyone joins, so long as they do. We needed numbers more than we needed passion. 

[02:53] Terry: yeah i remember those slogans about seeing the stars and traveling and stuff like that, which is pretty funny hahah

[02:54] Peepers: Well, it worked. And it's not like it wasn't true. 

[02:54] Terry: hey speaking of that, maybe we can get more shore leave ? :)

[02:54] Peepers: Ha. No.

[02:55] Terry: but it'd be a boost to morale! everyone would work better!

[02:55] Peepers: Morale is only so important. We don't have time to make stops all the time.

[02:55] Terry: i mean, we make stops at planets all the time, maybe we could just work in some break time 

[02:56] Peepers: Terry, most of those are planets you're supposed to be conquering.

[02:57] Terry: but i'm just a janitor!

[02:57] Peepers: Ugh, I mean the general “you”. “You” as in “watchdogs”. I don't want ANY watchdogs messing around on a planet were sieging.

[02:58] Terry: what do we even do with those planets? i don't think i've ever thought about it before

[02:58] Peepers: Wow, Terry. Seriously?

[02:59] Peepers: We leave behind battalions, enact our laws, and collect taxes. Or we would if we could hold onto any one planet for more than a week. 

[02:59] Terry: oh, aw. what's happening to them?

[03:00] Peepers: What do you think.

[03:00] Terry: ...wander?

[03:02] Peepers: He is one of many stumbling blocks, yes. Rebellions are another one. Coups are another. There are lots of things that can go wrong and it's incredibly difficult to keep a handle on it all.

[03:04] Terry: see this is why a massage would be a good idea

[03:05] Peepers: Yes, well, we’ll see. I'm still doubtful it'll help much.

[03:07] Terry: are your feet ticklish?

[03:07] Peepers: what

[03:07] Peepers: I mean, what, no, you are not touching my feet. 

[03:09] Terry: they say foot massages are good for your brain or something, like, they're linked points or something?? or maybe that's acupuncture 

[03:09] Peepers: Don't tell me you believe in that stuff.

[03:10] Terry: i mean people say it works! and isn't there some science behind it

[03:11] Peepers: I could look into it but I really doubt I need to. It sounds undoubtedly false.

[03:13] Terry: i don't know why but somehow you seem like the kind of guy who might like acupuncture 

[03:13] Peepers: What in the world gives you that impression??

[03:14] Terry: i'm not sure……. you and needles seem to go together. maybe it's because you're so….sharp? :)

[03:14] Peepers: Hardy har. 

[03:19] Terry: you're probably the smartest guy i know 

[03:23] Peepers: ...Yes, I probably am.

[03:24] Terry: sooo what's up? is hater back yet? it's nearly 3:30am

[03:24] Peepers: If he showed up would I still be talking to you?

[03:25] Terry: right…...sorry

[03:26] Terry: what's going on down on synthor then? anything interesting?

[03:27] Peepers: I'm telling you Terry, nothing. Absolutely nothing. This planet is empty and boring and terrible. I wouldn't want to conquer it if my life depended on it.

[03:32] Terry: do you think the…synthians? synthonians? citizens of synthor? made synth music? 

[03:33] Peepers: Terry. It’s Scythor. Not Synthor.

[03:33] Terry: i'm just in the mood for some good synth music i think

[03:34] Peepers: Well you won't find any here. I don't even think anything is living here at all, at least not in this area of the planet. I'm worried even the temple might be empty and Lord Hater is just in there, wandering around, lost. 

[03:36] Terry: but he’s been in there a really long time...don't you think he might have found something?

[03:37] Peepers: I wish I could just go in there and find out but it's blocked off.

[03:37] Terry: you couldn't… blast your way in? 

[03:37] Peepers: One moment.

[03:48] Peepers: No, I can't.

[03:50] Terry: aw dang. 

[03:51] Terry: i wonder what happened to the civilization that used to be there

[03:51] Peepers: You have a phone, you could always look into it yourself.

[03:52] Terry: aw...but i'm texting you!

[03:52] Peepers: Did you know...your phone has the ability to run multiple applications at a time?

[03:53] Terry: but researching is boring….. :(

[03:53] Peepers: Fine, then don't. It'll just have to remain a mystery forever.

[03:54] Terry: :(((

[03:54] Peepers: What, do you expect me to do it for you?

[03:55] Terry: don't you like that sorta thing? you got into goldwater after all

[03:55] Peepers: Terry, I'm not going to spoogle something for you, dear grop.

[04:08] Terry: ok ok i looked it up and it seems like they all kinda left because the pollution on their planet killed off this animal they ate

[04:09] Peepers: Great! So I’m being slowly poisoned. Fantastic.

[04:09] Terry: no it was like a hundred years ago or something so i think you're safe!!

[04:10] Peepers: I really don't think there's enough surviving plant life to restore the atmosphere in that amount of time, at least not all the way. Lord Hater better hurry up.

[04:12] Terry: can you text him? 

[04:13] Peepers: I'll try, but he never answers.

[04:13] Terry: i hope he has reception wherever he is

[04:14] Peepers: I doubt it, this temple is very large and made of very thick stone. 

[04:17] Terry: hey...do you and hater ever just hang out?

[04:17] Peepers: What? What do you mean?

[04:18] Terry: like as friends

[04:21] Peepers: ...He's my boss.

[04:21] Terry: you're my boss and we you know

[04:21] Peepers: For the love of grop you can say “sex”, Terry. Do you do that just to annoy me?

[04:22] Terry: you're my boss and we have sex all the time, so why shouldn't you be buddies with hater?

[04:23] Peepers: That is completely different. 

[04:23] Terry: aw why tho? 

[04:26] Peepers: Our arrangement is in secret and also we aren't working together on a daily basis. Lord Hater and I spend as much time as we need to together. If that involves something that could constitute as “hanging out” then it's purely by coincidence.

[04:27] Terry: but why can't you hang out with hater? i don't really know the guy but i'd bet he's cool to chill with. he likes video games right? i think i've heard about him playing video games 

[04:28] Peepers: Yes, he likes video games, comic books, television... He likes wasting time in a myriad of different ways.

[04:28] Terry: so why not...waste some time with him?

[04:29] Peepers: Oh I have wasted PLENTY of time with him. 

[04:30] Terry: no but i mean like fun time wasting, like buddy time wasting, friendship stuff

[04:30] Terry: not like, him being your boss time wasting. just fun!

[04:31] Peepers: Why would we do that? Do you think we're friends?

[04:32] Terry: i mean...you COULD be friends, if you wanted to

[04:35] Peepers: I really doubt he'd want anything like that.

[04:35] Terry: aw what! no way! you should at least try!

[04:36] Terry: i mean don't you wanna hang out with him?

[04:40] Peepers: I'm simply acknowledging the facts. There's literally no reason why he'd want to hang out with me, except maybe as a last resort or something. I'm not “fun”. 

[04:41] Terry: aw hey we've been hanging out via text for hours and i've been having fun! 

[04:42] Peepers: Well…you're you. You could probably have fun in an empty room so long as you were allowed to talk.

[04:42] Terry: i think you just don't wanna admit that you can have fun. you should just give it a try! 

[04:44] Peepers: Excuse you?? I can have fun. I have PLENTY of fun! I have FUN when I'm conquering planets. I have FUN when we actually accomplish something for once! I have sooo much fun, Terry! Every single day of my life is an absolute BLAST.

[04:45] Terry: right….um… that's sarcasm right? you're being sarcastic?

[04:45] Peepers: What do you think.

[04:46] Terry: listen i just think you oughta give it a shot. i bet you'd both have a really good time 

[04:49] Peepers: Ugh, whatever! We’ll see. There's hardly time for that sort of thing anyway.

[04:50] Terry: you're good at making time for things! like yknow

[04:50] Terry: okay that was a joke, i definitely meant sex

[04:54] Peepers: Look, I'm not...completely opposed to the idea. I mean it's not like it would be without precedent.

[04:54] Terry: without precedent ??

[04:55] Peepers: Like...it’s happened before.

[04:55] Terry: you hanging out with hater??

[04:56] Peepers: Yes, sort of. In a way.

[04:56] Terry: what happened?? 

[04:56] Peepers: It wasn't really a big deal. I helped fix his game and watched him play it for a while.

[04:57] Terry: aw! was it fun? 

[04:58] Peepers: I don't know. It was the middle of the night so I was exhausted.

[04:59] Peepers: But… I suppose, yes, one could constitute it as…“fun”.

[04:59] Terry: did YOU have fun? :) 

[05:05] Peepers: Yes, ok, sure, I had fun. Why are you so interested in all this??

[05:05] Terry: i dunno i guess i'm just curious! you don't really talk much about yourself

[05:06] Peepers: There's no reason for me to.

[05:06] Terry: but it's nice to get to know each other!

[05:06] Peepers: Why would we do that.

[05:07] Terry: it's….friendly? 

[05:07] Peepers: ...We aren't friends.

[05:08] Terry: well it all starts here right! with pleasant friendly conversation

[05:08] Peepers: Is that what you think this is? Me trying to be friends with you?

[05:12] Terry: um well… maybe i'm trying to be friends with you a little?

[05:14] Peepers: Why in the world would you want that?

[05:15] Terry: well we’ve been talking this whole time and it's been nice, you could say it's been...friendly! 

[05:16] Peepers: You sound way, way too much like Wander right now.

[05:19] Terry: uh sorry hahah…

[05:20] Terry: i mean it wouldn't be so bad, being friends with me? we see each other all the time anyway, it'd be nice if maybe we were friends too 

[05:21] Peepers: I don't need friends.

[05:21] Peepers: What I need is for Hater to come out of this flarping temple already so I can stop having this conversation.

[05:26] Terry: do you think he’ll really find that weapon?

[05:27] Peepers: Honestly at this point I'll just be happy if he comes out of there alive. 

[05:29] Terry: he's made of bones so is he 

[05:29] Terry: is hater even really alive

[05:30] Peepers: Oh Terry of course he's alive. I mean… he has to be? 

[05:30] Terry: does he have organs?? do you think he has organs or is it like magical

[05:30] Peepers: I don't know!! Why are you asking me?? I don't know everything about him!!

[05:31] Terry: see that's why you should hang out with him, then you could really casually ask if he has organs

[05:32] Peepers: Insightful, I'll just ASK him if he has organs. You think I haven't thought of that before??

[05:32] Peepers: I mean uh

[05:32] Peepers: That's not any of my business. 

[05:32] Peepers: And besides, if I really wanted to know I could just Spoogle his species and find out.

[05:33] Terry: i don't know what his species is tho… electric skeleton guys?? people?? 

[05:34] Peepers: If you're so curious why don't you look into it yourself. Or are you too lazy again?

[05:35] Terry: but how would i even look it up? i've never seen anything like him. do you think he's from some really far galaxy or something?? kinda cool tbh

[05:36] Peepers: Well...I've never seen anyone else like him in our galaxy so...probably? 

[05:37] Terry: we like to speculate, so everyone always comes up with wacky ideas. i don't have any solid theories, but i love hearing them

[05:38] Peepers: I mean...it's not like I haven't thought about it before. I just didn't think it would be very professional to go snooping into...well, what essentially would be his past. 

[05:38] Terry: hmm yeah that makes sense i guess… 

[05:39] Terry: has he texted you back btw? how's the heat down there?

[05:41] Peepers: No, he's probably too busy. Or the reception is too bad. And the heat is still...hot.

[04:41] Terry: is there any shade? 

[04:42] Peepers: I'm in the shade of a large pillar at the moment.

[04:43] Terry: well at least there's that. i guess it doesn't help too much tho

[04:43] Peepers: Not really. 

[04:44] Terry: what's it like down there anyway? like, the landscape

[04:46] Peepers: It's…I don't know. There's a lot of lava and molten rock. The temple is sort of part of this volcano. 

[04:46] Terry: oh dang really?? i was hoping i was just seeing things and that wasn't actually lava down there. jeez

[04:47] Peepers: If I had had time to scout out the planet beforehand I would have prepared us more heat-resistant clothing. But it is what it is.

[04:48] Terry: no wonder those people left, living with a volcano and all

[04:48] Peepers: Multiple volcanoes, probably. It seems they worked out a way to live with the lava itself so the enormous amount of CO2 they release is likely what forced them off. 

[04:49] Terry: can you see any old cities or towns? villages?

[04:50] Peepers: No. Not here at least.

[04:51] Terry: can you send me a pic ?? i'm really curious 

[04:51] Peepers: There’s not much to see.

[04:54] Peepers: Here. [img_2378.jpg]

[04:55] Terry: oh woah it really is pretty bleak...

[04:56] Terry: you think hater will want to conquer a planet like that? with no one on it?

[04:57] Peepers: No, he would not. 

[04:57] Terry: hm well maybe that's for the best

[04:57] Peepers: Yes, in this case, probably.

[04:58] Terry: so... how long has it been now?

[04:58] Peepers: Six and a half hours.

[04:58] Terry: jeez...you sure ur doing okay?

[05:00] Peepers: It's…getting a bit difficult to breathe, actually. 

[05:00] Terry: wait what??? oh my grop that's bad you gotta get out of there

[05:02] Peepers: Wait, I think I hear something.

[05:03] Terry: is it hater?

[05:14] Terry: peepers? are you okay??

[05:30] Terry: peepers???

[05:31] Terry: hey lemme know when youre ok, ok? please?

[05:54] Peepers: I’m fine.

[05:54] Terry: peepers oh my grop i was so worried. what happened??? 

[05:56] Peepers: A lot. Hater sprung a bunch of traps and we had to deal with them and I am now standing in an open freezer trying to cool down.

[05:57] Peepers: I am very tired, and in pain. But I’m fine.

[05:57] Terry: oh thank grop i’m so relieved

[05:57] Terry: maybe you should chew on some ice

[05:59] Peepers: I think I'm gonna go treat my burns.

[06:00] Terry: you have burns?? please go to the infirmary asap

[06:01] Peepers: I can treat it myself.

[06:01] Terry: the guys at the infirmary are good dudes, plus they have creams that’ll help or something

[06:03] Peepers: Yes they do have creams and wraps and all sorts of things, all of which I fully intend on utilizing back to my own room.

[06:03] Terry: okay...wait. wait how did you get burns in the first place??

[06:06] Peepers: The fire lions maybe? Or it could have been the lava. Or the sentient flaming arrows. It was too chaotic to tell. 

[06:06] Terry: what

[06:10] Peepers: It was a lot. I think...I’m going to take a nap.

[06:11] Terry: a nap? you were up all night you need to sleep for real :(

[06:15] Peepers: I have too much damage control to take care of. 

[06:15] Peepers: I'll talk to you later

[06:15] Terry: man.. okay :( but please try to take it easy ok? :( 

[06:17] Terry: don't hesitate to hmu if you need anything

[06:19] Terry: sleep tight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hannah said to me, "case, either all the texts have a time stamp, or none of them do. it's your choice." so. I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE TIME STAMPS!!!!!!!!! they were fun, and i put thought into it, so i hope yall liked them hahah  
> see ya next time~  
> \--case
> 
> heres a little secret: me and case actually roleplayed some parts of this in order to get this chapter out faster. could u tell?  
> \--hannah


	9. The Friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy everyone! It's been a while! Sorry about that. Mostly I just wanna say thanks for stickin' with us, despite all the long waits. It's been a whole year since we published the first chapter of this fic, can you believe it?? Jeez. But really, thanks for reading, and I hope y'all continue to stick around because shit is about to get _good_ in the coming chapters. And then even better. And then SUPER good. Don't touch that dial. 8)  
>  -Hannah
> 
> like hannah said WOW!! it's been just over a year since this whole ride got started... i'll probably write up some post on tumblr about how i'm feeling so as to not clog up the authors notes any more than they already are! yall wanna get to the good stuff after all, and so do we!! thank you for your support, it means everything to us and we LOVE YALL!!!  
> -case! <3

It was in a state halfway between wakefulness and sleep that the thoughts of _security footage_ of all things began to gnaw at Peepers' mind. As he drifted, his thoughts broke apart into small, less distinguishable chunks. His door, cameras, watchdogs, Terry...it all swirled in the chaotic dreamscape of his mind, all of it too foggy to grasp any singular part. It all meshed together into random scenes, none that seemed significant but all that caused him stress for some specific reason that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Something was trying to push through the fog. And whatever it was, it felt bad. It made him feel _intensely_ uneasy.

An image lofted through his mind of a watchdog, sitting at his console, his rows and rows of screens in from of him. Peepers had access to it all as well, he thought. He never went through it though, he never had reason to. There _could_ be reason, though. Sifting through old footage...the things one could find... No one would ever want to though, of course, it's mostly empty halls and bored guards, sleeping watchdogs, sleeping Peepers? Peepers had no camera in his room but...maybe he does? Does he?? He _knows_ he doesn't but something is making him _feel_ like he does. Maybe there _were_ things to see. Maybe they, him, maybe security would want to see whatever it was. There was no security for the _security_ , no one but _him_ , so why wouldn't they? They have full access, maybe they even _use_ it from time to time. Who's going stop them, right?

Something about this was bad. Really bad. Really, really, really bad. He could feel it so deep and so sure, he needed to go find it, there were tapes, there were—

Peepers woke up with a start, gasping and drenched in sweat. His heart thumped hard in his chest and his thoughts solidified into a sense of dread so intense that his immediate impulse was to scream. He _didn't_ do that though, because that would be _stupid_.

He checked the clock. 4am. He sighed and turned off his alarm. Two hours was enough for now.

What had he been dreaming about? Cameras? His head hurt. He needed to get some coffee. Something about cameras though, grop, what was it? It felt painfully crucial but it had now faded into the further reaches of his subconscious and grop he _really_ needed caffeine. Specifically in coffee form.

He quietly thanked his past self for setting up a coffee machine in his room the first day they got the ship. Coffee had gotten through his college days. Coffee had gotten him through the early "MC Hater" days. Coffee could get him through anything.

He prepared it in a kind of meditative haze, taking comfort in the familiar routine. He'd been trying this new thing lately where he calms himself down properly first so he can then better organize his thoughts? It seemed to be working for him so far. More often than not, however, he didn’t really have the time to spare for that sort of practice.

So. Back to what he was worried about. What was it? Cameras, right? Something about cameras? If his subconscious was concerned about something, it was likely there _was_ something wrong, he just hadn't figured it out yet. So, what was wrong with cameras? Did they have enough? Yes, of course. Were they positioned in the most efficient arrangement possible? Yes, obviously. Were they all in working order? Last he had checked, which was two days ago, yes, they were. Maybe it was the security personnel assigned to surveillance that was bothering him? Their work was all generally about as mediocre as any other department, he didn't see why there would be something in particular bothering him about that. Their schedules and payroll were all perfectly organized last he checked, so what was it?

He sipped gently at his coffee and closed his eye, breathing in the warm aroma that filled the air. He could already start to feel his brain chugging along a little smoother, a little quicker. As the last bit of grogginess fell off of him, he tried to recall his dream again. A watchdog was looking through files and it was stressing him out. Something about tapes...

As his thoughts caught up with him, his grip on the mug faltered. It slipped out of his hand and fell to the ground, its contents spilling out onto the carpet below.

The camera, the camera outside his room, there was a camera there and he hadn't even thought—It didn't matter if no one ever saw them together, they could see _him_ , Terry, they could see him going in and out of his room on a weekly basis, sneaking in and out, they could notice it happening, draw conclusions, tell others, they—no.

No, he thinks to himself, pressing a hand to his forehead, That wouldn't happen because the camera outside his room is not _designated_ for manual surveillance, he made sure of that ages ago, even before Terry.

But...that didn't mean that the footage didn't still exist. The files _were_ there, sitting inside their database, waiting to be stumbled upon. He nodded and reassured himself. He just needed to get in and delete them all ASAP.

He whipped himself another fresh cup, downed it (which burned, but he was used to it), threw on his uniform, and went out for the nearest surveillance room.

It would be fine. Everything was fine, he told himself, all he had to do was get there, delete the files, and no one would know. Even if some watchdog did already see them, it’s not like it'd be a disaster. They wouldn't have any evidence to show for it! The files would be deleted before they had a chance to prove it! He was just covering his tracks, that's all, it's just an extra precaution he should have done earlier, but really, it was no big deal, he just needed to get in there as soon as possible and delete the files and everything would be—

As he rounded the last corner, a large mass appeared in front of him, blocking his path.

"Peepers! Just the guy I wanted to see!"

He jumped a full step back, nearly falling in surprise. He peered up at his boss, who stood tall before him in his typical dark red and black cloak, arms akimbo, looking down at him with tired eyes and a wide smile.

Peepers couldn't help but snap. "Sir! What're you..."

 _Relax Peepers_ , he thought to himself, _he's on his own ship, we both are. You aren't doing anything wrong, he's not catching you, so for grop's_ _sake, act NORMAL._

"What're you doing up so, um, early?" He tried again, his voice cracking.

"Early? What are you talking about?" Lord Hater nonchalantly reached out and grabbed a passing watchdog, yoinking the phone he had out of his hands and causing him to lose his grip and fall face-first onto the ground. Hater clicked the phone screen on and squinted at it.

"It's ah, nearly 4:30 in the morning, sir..." Peepers said, his eye darting behind Hater where the door to the surveillance room laid just beyond.

"Oh..." Hater squinted at the phone for a few seconds before tossing it aside. The watchdog, now righted, deftly caught it mid-flight before scurrying off down the hall. Hater smirked at Peepers. "That's not early, that's _late_ , Peepers."

"I...if you say so, sir."

"But anyway, listen," he said, turning Peepers so they could walk down the hall together, "So I was thinking about Wander, and how much I hate him."

Peepers glanced anxiously behind them, the door now receding into the distance. "Ah, um, is that so?"

"Yeah. And I got to thinking: when I destroy him, do you think I should do it fast? Or do you think I should kinda like, drag it out. Because when you really think about it, both have their pros and cons, and I'm not really sure which I’d prefer. Do I wanna just get rid of him as quick as possible or do I wanna really wanna watch him suffer? Like, how do I wanna _do_ it, you know? Because there are just so many options right? I've been thinking about this extensively and I think I’ve come up with some pretty _solid_ ideas. Like burying him alive, or having him eaten by firebears, leaving him stranded on a desert planet with no way off, freezing him, blasting him into empty space..."

As Hater continued to list off his ideas Peepers couldn't help but feel a lingering worry resurface. Despite all the things _Peepers_ worried about on a daily basis, his own personal problems included, _Hater_ only ever seemed capable of focusing on one singular thing. And that...was a bit of an issue. Sometimes that one thing was his job! Oftentimes, however, it wasn't. It was possible that he simply wasn't capable of multitasking, and Peepers would be fine with that, but if that _was_ the case then really, where should priority lie? It was a bit of a trial when Hater would suddenly decide that his attention would be better suited to some fool in a stupid hat rather than the task at hand. At first, it hadn't seemed like it'd be _too_ much of an issue, just a minor obstacle that needed a quick and proper dealing with...but somehow, without him even realizing it, it had gradually turned into something that even _Peepers_ was afraid he couldn't put a stop to. He still believed he could destroy Wander—obviously, Peepers was capable of anything—it had simply become apparent that this needed a more deliberate strategy than had previously been utilized. This was something Peepers had to figure out, and he was sure he could, eventually. He just needed to make sure it was left up to _him_ and not Lord Hater. If he left it entirely to Lord Hater...well, he had a feeling that _furball_ was a lot smarter than he let on, and if he wasn't careful, he may end up managing to steal Hater away from him entirely... Er. His throne. Steal him away from his _throne_.

Either way. He had to take all this seriously. Perhaps he'd even have to start taking a bit more charge of Hater in order to keep things under control. Ha...imagine that. Him bossing _Lord_ _Hater_ around.

"...starving him in one of my dungeons so I could watch him wither away slowly, that could be fun! I could use a weapon of some kind, or oooh what about encasing him in stone?? That's a good one, I hadn't thought of that 'til just now! That'd make a great trophy! Or maybe I should just stick with the basics, ya know, bust out my good ol' fashioned lightning powers? What do you think Peeps? What do you think feels the most... _right_?"

"I..." He sighed. Despite everything, there was no use fighting him about any of this _now_. Not at five in the morning when he had very important things to do, and _not_ when Lord Hater looked so _atrociously_ exhausted. "I think _any_ one of those destructions would be...great. But really sir, listen...it's early. For _me_ , at least. Why don’t we schedule some time to brainstorm about destroying Wander later? We can get some watchdogs in on it, it’ll be great. But for now, I really have some work I need to get to. So, um, if you don't mind...?" He gestured past where Hater was standing, back down the hallway.

"Oh, uh." Hater looked a bit awkward as he stepped aside for him. "Yeah, I'll uh, just keep workin' on more ideas, then. Can't settle for second best when you're the greatest in the galaxy am I right, Peepers?"

"Quite right, sir," Peepers replied with the best smile he could manage.

"Yeah so uh, quick slackin' and get back to work!" he said in a faux-serious tone as he backed away, pointing finger guns at him, "I'll be in my room if you need me, so uh, don't need me."

"Try to get some sleep if you can, sir," Peepers said. He considered walking him bed personally to make sure he got some rest, but he’d probably end up falling asleep there himself, so he thought better of it.

"Sleep is for the _weak_ , Peepers. I don't need sleep."

He sighed. "Whatever you say, sir."

 _If only_ , he thought to himself.

Once he had rounded the corner and was out of sight, Peepers rushed back to the room and finally made his way inside.

"Tom," the watchdog at the console said at the sound of the door, "man, come on, I already told you, no matter how much you beg I'm _not_ gonna..." as he turned to see that it was Peepers he was addressing he nearly fell out of his chair.

"Commander Peepers! Sir!" he said, righting himself, "Uhhh what can I do for you? I've definitely been doing my job and nothing else!"

"Yes,” Peepers said, winging it, “you've been doing very well, um..." He struggled to remember this particular watchdog's name. On surveillance for this quadrant right now there should be Pete, Ritz, Andy, AJ, Carlos, Dan, Zachary aaaand..... "Gregory! In fact, you've been doing so well that I'm giving you some time off! Exactly 15 minutes! Lucky you!" he said pleasantly before dropping his expression to a cold, hard glare. "Now go."

The watchdog, sufficiently intimidated, was out the door in a flash and Peepers was left alone in the dark, high ceilinged room with the large array of monitors in front of him ready to be plundered.

"Okay, okay, okay, okay..." he mumbled to himself as he sat down at the console. He re-established the screen that was closest to him from a live video feed of an empty hallway to a display of the main computer. After entering a few authorization codes, he quickly found the folder he was looking for.

He considered opening it for a moment. Maybe he could go through and edit out any incriminating sections of footage manually? But...no. That would take far too long, and would be a process he'd have to keep up with every week. He had enough to worry about. Instead, he deleted the entire folder, making sure to wipe all traces of the data off of the hard drive (though it's not like a lot of watchdogs, if any, even know how to retrieve deleted files), then opened the console and entered a simple command to shut off the camera entirely. _That should do it,_ he sighed.

He couldn't be so reckless in the future. When he got back to his room he was going to compose a _list_ of every possible way they could be ever be found out, and make sure that they were safe from every angle. And not in a panicked, self-destructive type of way, like he's done in the past, in a logical and _level-headed_ way, to rule out any other overlooked lapse in discretion.  
  
He returned the monitor to its live feed and made to get up, but stopped in his tracks when noticed two watchdogs on the screen that hadn't been there before, sitting next to each other, talking. With a start, he recognized one of them as _Terry_. His heart nearly _jumped_ out of his chest before he remembered he was on a _screen_ for grop's sake, not in person, there was no reason for him to freak out.

He couldn’t help but watch, though, transfixed. It was so _strange_ to see Terry in an outside environment that didn't scare the living zreb out of him. And he looked so...tired. So tired that he almost looked kinda... _sad_? What was going on? Peepers couldn't really see the other watchdog's face that well—his head was down—but his body language read the same way. That _did_ make sense, considering the time. They were up far earlier than they needed to be for their new shifts. Maybe they were just "hanging out"? But why _there_ , sitting on the floor in an empty hallway like that? There were plenty of better—

On the screen, Terry reached out an arm and wrapped it, gently, around the the other watchdog, and Peepers' thoughts ground to a halt. Terry brought his other hand to the hand of this stranger and kept it there...unmistakably _holding_ it. Whatever was going on was not at _all_ what he thought was going on. Peepers felt his heart thumping out of his chest as he watched the two of them stare at each other, this… _look_ in their eyes. Like they were _sharing_ some... _moment_. This other watchdog smiled at him and placed his other hand on top of Terry's, rested his head onto Terry's shoulder. Terry looked down at him and started to lean towards him, like he—

Peepers turned away. This was—this was absolutely none of his business. He shouldn't be here, he finished what he needed to do. What was he still doing here? He should go. He was going.  
  
He managed to make it halfway back to his room before the dam burst in his mind.

That was Terry—that _had been_ Terry. That was _him_ , that had been _him_ with _someone else_. _Why_ ? What were they _doing_ ? Was Terry dating someone else and he didn't _know_ ? _I mean, obviously_ , he thought to himself, _why else would they be looking in each other's eyes like that? You might not be the best at "relationships" but you’re not_ completely _obtuse._

Wait. He shook his head as he continued his pace towards his room. What the flarp did he mean _“someone else”_? He and Terry were not _dating_. This wasn't—if Terry wanted to date people that wasn't any of his business! They weren't in any sort of _exclusive_ relationship, much less a romantic one! Grop, there was absolutely _no_ reason to get so worked up over this! This was ridiculous. He could practically roll his eye at himself, and did. He needed to stop getting worked up over nothing all the time, it was becoming a serious problem. In all honesty, it was probably just because he wasn't used to seeing watchdogs being romantic with each other in the first place. It was...weird! Also? _Romance_ was a thing that was sort of disparate from everything Peepers had made for himself. Not to say that he wouldn't be interested _someday_ in _something,_ not with _Terry,_ obviously, grop, but maybe once him and Hater had the galaxy all neat and conquered, maybe he’d be out and about one day and meet some big bad villain or something, maybe recruit him so as to help to expand the empire even further, maybe they end up spending a lot of quality time together and who knows? Who knows! Maybe _he'll_ want to date someone, too! Terry wasn't the only one! It wasn't a _crime_ , no one was doing anything _wrong_ here. It was just _weird_ , was all. The whole thing just struck him as strange. And it wasn't strange that he found it strange! Because really, why _hadn’t_ Terry mentioned it? He didn't have to, obviously, but come on, this was _Terry_ we were talking about, he doesn't keep _anything_ to himself, it was _weird_ that he'd never mentioned it. But whatever. Whatever. He wasn't going to let this get to him. The whole thing was stupid and none of his concern. Terry could do what he wanted. If he wanted to, for some reason, have some secret boyfriend that he, for _some_ reason, never _ever_ brought up, despite vomiting every other bit of needless trivia about his life at Peepers at every possible interval, that was his own choice, he was free to do that. Peepers had _way_ more important things to concern himself with, like dismantling that grop forsaken camera outside his room, for example.

 

* * *

 

 

Peepers found himself drawing up blueprints when there was the knock on the door. He didn't need to glance at the clock to know that it was probably exactly nine, since Terry was nearly always punctual. He sighed and pushed himself away from his desk, standing up and walking over to unlock the door. It would have to wait.

The camera had been dealt with. He had even taken it upon himself, in the early hours of the morning, to pull out a ladder and completely remove it and it's mount from the hallway. It wasn't like it was a very _important_ camera. Peepers' room was well enough away from most commotion and important parts of the ship that he could, in good conscious, get rid of it entirely. With that out of the way, he didn't have much to worry about with regards to his arrangement with Terry. He had made his list and checked it twice. (And then twice more). He was certain now that he didn't have to worry about anything at all.

"Hey," Terry said with a smile, stepping inside and locking door behind him.

Peepers took a couple steps back, giving him space but all the while keeping an eye on him. There wasn't anything different about him, nothing he could tell, but still, Peepers just felt...off. Like something was different. Determined to _not_ think about before, he zoned back into what Terry was saying a little too late.

"...but you know, it's got it's perks!" he said, walking past him and plopping himself on the edge of Peepers' bed. He glanced over at his desk and perked up. "What were you working on?"

Peepers blinked and finally ripped his eye away to look at the blueprints. "It's...a doom arena," he said absently.

"Oohh?" Terry hummed, sitting up a bit more. "What for?"

"Hater's birthday..." Peepers trailed off, walking over to his desk to fold up the plans and put them away. What was _up_ with him?? He was _way_ more distracted than normal. He hadn't expected seeing Terry after catching him like that would be so...disorienting?? Why was it bothering him so—no, no, this wasn't _bothering_ him, like he established before, he's just a little weirded out. For all he knew, Terry could have been with this person the entire time they've _had_ their...thing. He never bothered or even thought to ask whether or not Terry was seeing someone. It wasn't _relevant_. And it _remains_ irrelevant. It’s not like it’d affect his performance.

He shook his head and realized that, again, he had completely tuned out Terry’s words. When he turned to look at him, he realized with chagrin that Terry seemed to be expecting a reply. There was no way he was going to fake his way through _that_ convincingly.

"...Terry, I'm feeling pretty distracted,” he said, honestly. Grop, if he was being honest, this was much worse than he expected.

"Oh." And of course, Terry had to look so _concerned_. He held back a frustrated sigh.

"Don't look at me like that," he said, and very purposefully strut over to the bed and sat down, keeping his gaze firm.

“Do you wanna talk about it...?”

“ _No_ ,” he said, grabbing Terry's face assertively and pulling him in for a demanding kiss.

Terry murmured a soft “okay” as he melted into the kiss. It was nice, as always, but as he kissed him, he very abruptly started to wonder if his boyfriend knew about this. He had to stop himself from physically shaking the thought out of his head. Terry was annoying but he wasn't _treacherous_ , why would Peepers even think that?

Hoping his lapse in concentration didn’t show, he slid a hand on Terry's thigh, moving firm and sure. Terry responded positively and cupped his face, taking his other hand to the small of his back pulling him closer. Peepers could already feel himself start to drift away into his touch. The way he moved was always so much more alluring than what came out of his mouth, it was hard to believe he was the same person sometimes. He casually wondered if he touched his boyfriend like this as well.

OKAY SERIOUSLY—that was _enough._

Frustrated and determined to _distract himself properly_ , Peepers threw off his shirt as fluidly as he could, grabbed Terry's hand and pressed it into his crotch, arguably being a lot more forward than usual. He just wanted this to get _going_ already so his brain would _stop_. He didn’t want to be thinking about all that, he wanted to be _enjoying_ himself. Thankfully once Terry started to move his hand, he was very quickly preoccupied with _that_ instead.

He had him cupped firmly, slowly stroking him with such delicious pressure that Peepers couldn't help a sigh from escaping him. He pulled away briefly, but before Peepers could realize what he was doing, his hands were back on him, newly de-gloved. Terry had _seriously_ gotten good at this, taking care to do every little thing that Peepers liked. Practice makes perfect, he supposed, and they had had plenty of that. It was no wonder they had both gotten so good at each other, and it probably helped that they both seemed similarly motivated to do so. Because really, you had a certain _incentive_ to getting things right, you know? To doing the things that would get the other off the most; it was _satisfying_. It probably didn’t matter who it was with, it was like a game, so long as everyone is doing their best to win, everyone would always end up having a good time. Terry and his boyfriend probably have a similar dynamic, though he supposed there was probably a lot more, well, sensual kissing, or whatever it is they would do. Probably more talking or like, cuddling. Looking into deeply into each others’ eyes? He didn’t know. _That’s_ a lie, he did know, he was in a relationship before, he wasn’t sure why he was pretending like he wasn’t. Couples do stuff, it’s just different, definitely different than what he and Terry are doing, that’s for sure. He wondered if Terry was even any _good_ at romance anyway, like was he a good boyfriend? Because honestly, someone like him was probably—

“Man, you _are_ distracted.” Terry said, startling him. “What’s up?”

His eye snapped to Terry, who was now over him, his head quirked in that classic concerned fashion. Unable to look at such a kind expression for long, he glanced sideways at his desk again, as if there was something monumentally important there, rather than the empty surface that no longer demanded all of his attention.

"Just...still caught up thinking about the doom arena," he said. It wasn’t a _complete_ lie, he _was_ a bit worried about it.

"Right..." Terry nodded, sitting back on his heels. "You said it's for his birthday? Isn't that, like, what...four months out?"

Peepers sat up. "Three months, two weeks, and five days."

"Oh." Silence, for several long seconds that made Peepers feel judged. "Isn't that kind of a ways off?"

He rolled his eye, sighing loudly. "Terry, a project that big takes planning, time, and resources. I can't just whip one up willy-nilly. I've been designing it in my spare time, which _you_ know I don't have much of."

"Well, some of," Terry replied with a coy smile. Peepers tried to glare at him, but it wasn’t really in him tonight.

“It has to be perfect. _And_ it has to be a surprise, which is a difficult enough task on it’s own. Lord Hater is incredibly nosy, you know." He couldn’t help the hint of fondness that crept into his voice.

Terry smiled at him. Peepers looked away.

“He has very high standards. It has to be _fun_ .” He paused. He really needed to stop using Terry like he was some sort of therapy session, but he could _feel_ his anxieties about all this piling up behind his dam of a subconscious, like they had been _waiting_ for this moment to bust through. 

“Sometimes I…” he said, somewhat beyond his control, “Sometimes I worry I’m not very good at _knowing_ what he likes. I miss the mark so often when I think he’s going to enjoy something and he ends up hating it. He might even see me as...more of a _killjoy_ in his life than a supportive commander. What if I spend all this time working on this and he doesn’t even like it?” he said, gesturing to his desk. “It would be a _waste_ . Am _I_ wasting my time, doing these kinds of things for him?” He quieted, tapping his finger anxiously on the bed. “Maybe I should just stick to my job. Stop trying to…” He stopped, unable to finish. He wasn’t even sure what he _was_ trying to do.

“Be his friend?”

Peepers started and looked at Terry. _Of course not_ , he wanted to say, _why would I want that, we’re villains and co-workers, he’s my_ boss _. Friendship would just make things more difficult._

But he knew that wasn’t true. In reality, it _wouldn’t_ be bad thing for them to be friends. It’d probably be beneficial, help a lot of things run a lot more smoothly. Enjoying each others company could only be to your benefit if you’re stuck with each other, conquest or bust. There wasn’t any reason for him not to try, no real, _practical_ reason. He was just...afraid. Afraid he wouldn’t be capable of doing it. His eye burned.

"Did Hater ask for a doom arena?" Terry asked, startling him again.

Peepers hesitated. "...No. But what better gift for the ruler of an evil empire than a grand arena in which to destroy his enemies??"

Terry chuckled. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Hater does really seem into the whole destruction thing."

“Yes, well...obviously,” he replied, briskly rubbing at his eye.

"Are you...getting him anything else?" Terry asked after a moment, this peculiar look on his face.

"What do you mean?"

"Like...something from you, personally!"

"This _is_ from me. And, well..." His eye turned to the ceiling, thinking. "...Technically, I suppose, it will also be from the watchdogs, since everyone is going to have to pitch in for it's construction."

"Oh!" Terry rubbed at his neck, laughing. "Right…‘Guess that makes sense..." Peepers looked over at him again to see him hesitating. "But I mean, you know, something like, personal I guess?"

Peepers did _not_ understand what Terry was getting at. "Terry...this _is_ personalized. I'm designing the whole thing," he scoffed. "Obviously this is the perfect gift. If I’m going to give him a present, what else could it even be?"

"I don't know, something....sentimental? Or, like, meaningful to like your relationship?"

Peepers rolled his eye. "A man like Lord Hater does not value _sentimentality_."

Terry hmm-ed, to Peepers' annoyance. What wasn’t he understanding? And what was he getting at??

"I guess what I mean is, something only _you_ could give him."

 _That_ threw him a bit. What does that even mean? Lord Hater could have anything he wanted, after all—he was so powerful, imposing... If Lord Hater wanted the world, the galaxy, the entire _universe_ , Peepers would do everything he could to help him achieve that. Nothing could possibly stand in his way, no enemy, no roadblock—

Roadblocks.

"Roadblocks?" Terry looked at him quizzically.

Okay so he said that outloud, oops, moving on.

"No I just...thought of something." Peepers hopped up, grabbing his shirt from off the bed and tossing it on.

"You did?"

"Yes, yes, you're done, you can go."

"Wait, what?" Terry stood up, obviously confused, but Peepers didn't have time to explain. He needed to get back to work before anything escaped him.

"We're done for tonight, just go!" he cried, pushing Terry towards the door. "I have work to do!"

"But, wait, my gloves—" Peepers slid the door shut before Terry could finish his sentence, and he glanced back at the bed, where Terry's gloves were indeed lying, abandoned. But that wasn’t important. He had just had a revelation.

A doom arena was good, yes, and he knew he would be able to execute it perfectly. But nothing would be more impressive, nothing could be a better cherry on top than presenting none other than the biggest roadblock to their success, Wander and Sylvia, on that stage, primed for destruction. Not only would it please Lord Hater—he was sure of that, he thought with a smile—but it would also give him the perfect opportunity to finally be rid of them, while still giving Hater the opportunity of being the executioner. This simultaneously solved _all_ his problems in one! He could hardly hold back a maniacal giggle as he threw open the plans and got to work.


End file.
